


Deserving of Love

by Anasilan



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Angst, Angst and Feels, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Canon-Typical Violence, Childbirth, Eventual Smut, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Love, M/M, Mabari, Mabari Puppies, Multi, Pining, Pregnancy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-24
Updated: 2020-03-24
Packaged: 2021-03-01 05:08:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 27
Words: 38,533
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23289766
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Anasilan/pseuds/Anasilan
Summary: This story is set in an alternate universe where soulmates exist and are identified by the appearance of images on the right palm of each person involved when they first meet. Just because they exist however, doesn’t mean political marriages never occur and that women aren’t seen as a commodity. However, once these images appear, it is against divine law to keep the two apart, should they wish to be together. The timeline is set after the destruction of Adamant and the ball at the Halamshiral. Benjamin Trevelyan is the Inquisitor and soulmated to Dorian Pavus. Saoirse (Seer-sha) is Ben's twin sister, and is a mage.
Relationships: Blackwall/Female Trevelyan, Female Lavellan/Cullen Rutherford, Male Inquisitor/Dorian Pavus
Comments: 6
Kudos: 16





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey There! I have made the rating explicit for later chapters. There are some non-consent aspects for what her father and husband are doing in general.
> 
> Please enjoy and let me know what you think?

Ben was on edge… or bored… or both. He couldn’t make up his mind either way. He understood why Josephine, Leliana and Cullen insisted that he took time off – no real point in getting upset about the rifts, political machinations, and red templars when you couldn’t get out of your stronghold to do anything about them. And, to be brutally honest, after the debacle that was Halamshiral, and having to go rescue Blackwall, then sentence him, he certainly needed a break.

The storm had yet to blow itself out, it had been howling for a week straight and he was sick and tired of snow. It was warmer where he was from, Ostwick in the Free Marches. He could do what he wanted there. Here he was tied to the desires and wishes of others for the most part. There was only so much time that one could spend reading or drinking in the tavern. Though Bull would disagree on that point. He was also sick of training for hours, though the ongoing archery competition between him and Sera was amusing. Maybe Cullen would take pity on him and join them for another game of Wicked Grace. He was sure he could convince the little elven mage, Cyra Lavellan, to play too. Though, that could make the commander refuse out of embarrassment. It was a fifty chance either way.

He looked down at the stylised snake and dagger mark on his hand, and gently stroked it, still amazed that it was there at all. He had never felt that he’d be lucky enough to find his soulmate, especially not in these dark days, but there it was.

“Amatus…” A sleepy voice spoke from the depths of blankets on the bed. “I can feel you rubbing the mark. Come back to bed… I’m getting cold.”

Ben laughed. “Cold? Beloved, you have seven blankets, there are five braziers lit and the fire. How are you cold?” Dorian sat up, his hair messy and his eyes sleepy, a half smile on his face as he turned towards Ben’s deep voice.

“Because I am lacking my most important heat source. You.” He held out his hand to Ben. Grimacing, Ben looked out the window one last time, giving the snow a hard look, and turned back to the bed. Padding naked over to his lover, he climbed under the covers and drew Dorian on to his chest and twined his legs with his. He smiled and pressed a kiss to Dorian’s forehead, and in turn Dorian lifted his mate marked hand and kissed the image.

“Good morning, Dor.” He whispered.

Dorian snuggled in closely and wrapped an arm over his stomach. “Good morning, Amatus.” They lay there in silence for a while, with Dorian dozing as Ben contemplating the thoughts he had woken with this morning, idly tracing circles between Dorian’s shoulder blades. Finally, he was able to put his thoughts and feelings into words.

“We would have been twenty-eight today. I guess I still am… Twenty-eight I mean.” He spoke quietly, sadly and lifted his free arm from under the covers, looking at the green mark bisecting the thick scar that ran length ways across his palm. For once, the mark was quiet, so he was able to see and trace the scar, a tight feeling enclosing his heart and he closed his eyes as tears welled in them.

Dorian moved to lie on his elbow, his left hand reaching out to wipe the tears gathering on Ben’s eyelashes, and then leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to his Amatus’s lips, before taking Ben’s hand in his own.

“I know. I wish I could have met her. She sounded like a delightful child.”

Ben gave Dorian a watery smile. “The thing is Dor… I miss her like she’s just away somewhere, not like she is with the Maker. I see her in my head every so often. I saw her growing up with me I dreams. Though I haven’t seen her for a while. Not since I got the mark.” Dorian settled back down against his side, knowing that there was no other in Fereldan or even Thedas Benjamin Trevelyan trusted to share himself with.

“Tell me?” He asked softly. Ben closed his eyes.

“Hmmm…. Let’s see.”

“She is shorter than me.”

“Not hard. You tower over everyone except Bull.” Dorian pointed out.

“Shush.” Ben smiled. Dorian grinned against his shoulder.

“She is very pale, her eyes are the same colour blue as mine, but larger, with thick eyelashes. She has a small mole above her mouth, on the left-hand side, and has mother’s nose. Which is good.” He paused. “She has a scar through her right eyebrow, and there are freckles on her nose.” He paused, contemplating the scar. That was new in his vision. Hmmm.

“She is almost too slender. Looks like a waif. Her hair is black too, long, down to her waist, but tied back in a thick braid, with a green ribbon. Same green as the mark.”

He paused, contemplating the face in his mind. “She is desperately unhappy. Feels scared and trapped. Is trapped. Locked in a room. The room is well appointed, but I can’t make out the details. She is watching the door and holding her arm like its hurt.” He gasped and sat up, looking down at Dorian in shocked surprise.

“She’s a mage!”

Dorian blinked up at him. “She is? How do you…”

“She just healed the arm. Her magic shone from her fingers, and it was a pale gold. I never knew.”

Dorian watched as a multitude of emotions cross over his love’s expressive face before settling on desperate worry. Ben threw back the covers and got out of the bed, pacing across the floor agitatedly, then stopped, his eyes slamming closed.

“She… she’s looking in a mirror. Touching her reflection. She is scared. Keeps looking at the door behind her. Now… she’s saying something. I can’t hear her.” He paused, his arms wrapping around his chest to comfort himself, though those were quickly joined by Dorian’s who rose from the bed to help his love. “She…. She’s saying…” He broke off again.

“She’s saying my name over and over, whilst stroking the mirror. And… help me. Gods Dorian! What do I do!” His voice was heartbroken, as the scene in his head played out, then abruptly stopped when the door behind her opened. Ben crashed to his knees on the floor, his head in his hands, his shoulders shaking.

“How can I help, when I don’t know where she is?” His voice cracked. Dorian knelt beside him and stroked his hands through Ben’s thick black curls and down across his broad shoulders.

“Can you still see the room?”

“I can, I saw it in the reflection of the mirror, though it’s starting to fade a bit, as always.” Ben replied.

“Quickly, tell me what you see…. Anything would help to locate her.” Dorian settled against him, both uncaring about their nudity. One searching for anything on his sister and the other desperately wanting to help.

“The room is panelled with oak on the bottom half of the room, with painted plaster on the top. The floor is stone, thick granite like Redcliffe Castle. There is a fireplace, it’s wide, with a kettle hob and an intricately carved mantle. The mantle has mabari’s carved into it. There are mabari’s everywhere. Stone carved ones… painted into the plaster. Pictures of austere looking men, with mabari’s.” He paused, frowning. “The one over the mantle though…. I recognise the man, but not the woman.”

“Who is it?”

“Ginger hair, a prominent nose, same crown as the rest of the portraits. Stubborn jaw line. The woman has long blonde hair, is dressed in blue and silver with a locket around her neck. The locket looks like a griffin? They are smiling at each other.” He paused again. “That’s King Alistair.”

“And the woman must be Queen Eleanor. She’s...”

“She’s the retired warden-commander of Fereldan!” Ben opened his eyes and looked at his love. “That’s not an officially released portrait. They look too loving for that. I mean, they are smiling.”

Dorian grinned. “Then I know where she is. That’s a guest room at Denerim Castle. My father and I stayed there where I was younger, though the portrait was of Maric. We must get to Leliana. She can help!” He clambered nimbly to his feet and pulled up Ben with a slight grunt.

Ben immediately raced towards the stairs, mind still racing and desperate to get help for his sister.

“Um… Amatus?” Dorian called out.

“Yes, Dorian?”

“Whilst I certainly won’t complain, because you are simply delightful, and I love looking at your arse, you might, however, consider putting on pants at least. Wouldn’t want to horrify Mother Giselle more than you already have.” Ben stopped and looked down at himself, a dark blush appearing on his pale skin.

“Errr... Yes. Pants. That’d be a good thing.” Giving Dorian a sheepish grin, he walked back up the stairs and began hunting around the dresser for appropriate attire.


	2. Chapter 2

Ben ignored the greetings and shouts of birthday greetings as he and Dorian raced through the great call towards the rookery. He neatly side-stepped Mother Giselle and Josephine who both tried to get him to stop and talk, finally leaving Dorian to distract both women as he moved through the area at a rapid pace. He slid through into the rotunda, making Solas jump in surprise up on his painting gantry.

“Lethallin, what is the problem?” His quiet voice broke through Ben’s single-minded determination to get to the top of the tower. Ben turned and smiled at him.

“Solas…. Do you believe that there can be a… connection… between siblings? Between twins I mean?”

“I have read of such things, yes. When one is hurt, the other feels it too. Why?”

“Can you come and listen to what I have to say to Leliana? It would help if someone could explain that I am not just being foolishly hopeful, and I won’t have to repeat myself.” Ben smiled hopefully at the elven mage.

“Yes, of course. Give me but a moment.” He carefully set aside his paints and covered the fresh plasterwork with a cover just as Dorian entered the rotunda. Ben waited semi-patiently, his hand held in Dorian’s, needing the contact and assurance being with his mage gave him. And as soon as Solas was on the ground, the three headed up to the Rookery, and its busy owner.

Leliana stood over a desk covered with letters, reports and assorted missives, a gaggle of her scouts roamed the room, talking in quiet corners or feeding some of the ravens. She looked up and smiled when she saw Ben and Dorian, and quirked an eyebrow at Solas’s presence, but didn’t say anything.

“Happy Birthday, Inquisitor.” She said softly, in her Orlesian accent.

“Thank you, Leliana.” Ben bowed briefly and then looked at Dorian, unsure how to start. Dorian just smiled supportively and leaned against one of the pillars.

“As you know, Nightingale. I was a twin. Am a twin. My sister, Saoirse is five minutes older than I.” He began, then couldn’t stop. The entire story falling from his mouth, whilst Solas, Dorian and Leliana listened on.

“When we were twelve, shortly after mother died, father suddenly decided that Saoirse should visit with Mother’s parents for a while. He told me it was because she looked so much like Mother, that it would help the hurt that they were feeling. I didn’t question it, even though we hardly knew them. The night before they left, Saoirse snuck into my room. She didn’t want to go, but she was a good child and daughter, gentle by nature, so she didn’t complain to father. Not that Bann Trevelyan would have listened anyway.” There was anger and disgust in his tone.

“Even though we were twins, and connected by blood, I asked Seerie to cut our hands, so we would see it and know that the other was missing them too. She said yes of course.” He held out his left palm and showed the thick scar, and then grinned.

“Father was so angry. Maker! I was a little too excitable and cut too deeply. Couldn’t use my hand til he summoned a healer from the Ostwick Circle to fix it. Ah…. The irony really gets me now.” He shook his head and tried to shove down the building rage he had towards his father.

“Anyways, Seerie went off to Starkhaven for the summer. She’d been gone for three weeks, when her letters stopped coming. Then a week later, we received word that she had been killed in a bandit attack. My other siblings were beside themselves in their grief. Father locked himself in his room. I didn’t believe it though. Saoirse still talked to me in our dreams. We’d run and play in the fade like always.” He stopped and looked up at the roof, blinking back impending tears.

“Then, after a while, the dreams stopped. But, sometimes, if I thought really hard about her, I’d get an image of what she looked like that day. I saw her hair grow long, grow into a young woman, saw her reading. The last time I saw her was a year ago. About six months before I got the mark. Until this morning, I hadn’t seen her at all.” He moved and sat on the edge of Leliana’s desk and looked at Solas.

“Hmmmm.” The elf muttered and paced the room. “You said until this morning?”

“Yes, I woke up feeling off. I put it down to boredom and feeling trapped by this incessant snowstorm. Dorian convinced me to come back to bed and I started talking about Saoirse. While I did, I could see her. Like really see her. How she looks right now – or did a half hour ago. She was scared, terrified and trapped. And she is a mage. I saw her fix her own hurt arm. She stood in front of a mirror and said my name and asked me to help her.” Dorian moved forward and stood beside him, reaching for his hand in comfort.

“We think she’s at Denerim Castle. Ben described the room she’s in, and it’s in one of the guest chambers. My father and I stayed there during a visit as a young man.” Dorian stated.

Leliana nodded. “I have heard that twins can share such a bond. And I can imagine why your sister was sent away, though I wonder why she was not sent to the Ostwick Circle. Solas, do you have any thoughts?”

The elf stopped pacing and looked at Ben, and then stepped forward, with his hand raised. “Inquisitor, my friend, may I check something? I promise you will suffer no ill effects.” Ben nodded though raised his eyebrow when Solas placed his palm against Ben’s forehead.

“Hmmmm. It’s there. Latent, but there. Enough to join her in the Fade. But it is blocked now. I assume because of the power of the mark.” Solas looked momentarily sad, before his expression returned to his usual placid calmness. “From what you described to us, it sounds like your sister is a healer, possibly even a spirit healer considering the colour of the healing magic you said she used. She is also a Somniari or a dreamer. Like myself. Which is rare and can be very dangerous.” Ben nodded and then remembered something.

“Hawke told me about a dreamer she met in Kirkwall… he is called Feynriel and went to Minrathous to be trained.”

Dorian nodded. “He’s under the guardianship of one of Maevaris’s protégé’s. He’s extremely skilled.” Ben shrugged and turned back to Solas and Leliana.

“So… I came to you Leliana, because I need confirmation that Seerie is in Denerim Castle and if so. What the situation is. She’s calling for my help, and I cannot leave her there.” His eyes begged her to understand. “Please.”

“I do have ways of getting in contact with Alistair and Eleanor, I wouldn’t usually use this method, but there is no chance that any of my raven’s would get out in this storm. I will get in contact with them and bring news as soon as I know it, my friend.” Leliana made a shooing gesture with her hands. Ben leaned over and gave her a one-armed hug.

“Thank you, Nightingale.” He retained Dorian’s hand in his own and they, along with Solas walked down the stairs towards the library. Solas stopped them both on the library floor, his brow furrowed.

“I will read about spirit healers and protections for untrained or undertrained dreamers. Intuition tells me that she will be here soon, and we must have the means for her to protect herself and all of us.” Ben nodded, still reeling a little from the revelations of the day so far. “I suggest, Inquisitor, that you go to the great hall and take part in the celebrations Josephine has been organising, though if you could save me some of those small cakes…” He wandered off to the bookshelves without finishing his statement, mind already engaging in the research at hand.

“Come on, Amatus. Josephine promised me that there would be pancakes with chocolate in them to celebrate your day, and I do not want to miss out. Leliana will not let you down.” Ben sighed deeply and followed his love down into the rotunda and out to the great hall. He would put on a show for his friends and guests, but his thoughts were squarely centred on Denerim.


	3. Chapter 3

Leliana paced the floorboards of the rookery, patiently waiting for the last scout to make their quiet way out into the keep now that morning reports had been given. Walking to her personal box, she opened it, drawing a small locket from the depths. She had only used this a few times, but felt given the circumstances and the urgency, using it today would be well warranted. Cracking open the top of the locket she gently stoked the green crystal inside and then whispered a name.

“Eleanor.” The crystal began to glow, then faded in and out as it waited for its partner to respond. After a minute or two a sleepy, male voice answered.

“Leli?” It slurred.

“Alistair?” Leliana smiled at the sound of her dear friend’s voice. She heard the sounds of rustling sheets and the soft masculine groan as Alistair obviously sat up. Leliana could see him in her mind’s eye. His hair would be in every direction, one eye would be closed, and he would be bare chested.

“Who else would answer Ellie’s sending crystal might I ask you?” He grumped at her.

“Last time I used this, dear Alistair, Zevran answered it and propositioned me.”

“Ah… he was just saying hello… you know how he is.” Leliana gave out a musical laugh.

“Yes, once a lecher, always a lecher. Is Ellie nearby? I need to speak with you both, quite urgently.”

“Erm…. Yes. Just a moment.” There was a clanking sound, which Leliana assumed was Alistair putting down the locket. There was further rustling of blankets and the sound of Alistair crooning softly to someone.

“G’way, you fiend. It’s too early to caboodle and I’m too uncomfortable.” Came the slurred response. Leliana snickered. Eleanor was notoriously hard to wake up and had been for years, and as she advanced in her pregnancy, she had apparently become worse. There came the sound of more sheets rustling and then… kissing. Knowing what was likely to happen next unless she stepped in, Leliana made herself known.

“You know I can hear you, yes? I have relished not listening to you two “caboodle” for almost ten years, please don’t break that trend now.” She actually laughed out loud when Eleanor squawked, and Alistair yelled “OW!” in response to Ellie hitting him.

“Leli’s on the sending crystal and you thought you should wake me up THAT way?” She sounded indignant.

“Well, any other way and you try to punch me. You know I bruise easily.” Leliana giggled again.

“Can I please have your attention, now?” She asked politely.

“Of course, Leli. One moment.” Ellie said, followed by more rustling sheets, a masculine grunt and two sighs when they were both upright and settled against the headboard.

“Okay Leliana. What’s happening? Must be fairly urgent if you are using the crystal.” Ellie jumped right into it, never being one to put off hard work or an important matter.

“This is of the utmost secrecy. Is there a trade deputation from Ostwick in residence at the moment?”

“Yes, they are here to discuss obtaining more rights to Fereldan textiles. They’ve mostly been talking with Eamon however.” Alistair stated. “Bann Richard Trevelyan, his retinue of servants and his personal bodyguard, Stewart du Maurier.”

“Is there a woman with them?”

“I haven’t seen her personally, but Molly stated that there was a woman in their rooms yesterday, she ran away when the servants entered to clean the rooms and air the linens.” Eleanor replied.

“Did Molly say anything?”

“Only that she was a skinny little thing, had long black hair and a newly healed scar in one of her eyebrows.”

“Hmmmm… is there anyway you can…. Investigate for me? Without giving too much information, it is possible that this woman is the Inquisitor’s sister.”

“Of course. Bann Trevelyan will be in meetings all day, and du Maurier can be entertained. I am sure Teagan can be relied on to give him a detailed tour of the castle and grounds.” Alistair immediately agreed. “You can rely on my sneaky wife to get the information you are seeking.”

“Yes, I am as sneaky as a full-sized whale right now, Love.” She muttered.

“No…. you are a graceful swan.” He defended.

“You are blind, Ali. I’m all stomach and waddling… like an oversized duck. Quack.”

“You are a beautiful duck.”

“Gee… thanks.” There was a groan and the sounds of covers being thrown back. “I’ll go check on our guest once I’ve used the privy for the millionth time since midnight and fed the heir to the crown. I will call you back in two hours, Lel.”

“Okay. Thank you for the assistance. Oh! Did the package arrive? Josie hoped we’d get it out before the storm hit.”

Ellie laughed. “Yes! The clothes are so bright and cheerful, I am sure they will horrify the Fereldan nobility. So, that’s perfect. But the little stuffed nug…. It’s perfect. Please tell its creator, Krem, that it has pride of place, just waiting for their royal highness to decide to show up.”

“I will. Be careful, mon amour. You too, Alistair. I will speak to you soon.” Leliana started to close the locket and laughed when she heard Alistair whine.

“Why does she call you, my love? Why not me? I’m just as handsome as you.” With a click the amulet closed, and Leliana decided to go down to talk with Krem. After all, there was really nothing to do but wait. There had been no news in or out of Skyhold since the storm had set in.


	4. Chapter 4

Queen Eleanor Theirin, retired warden-commander of Fereldan and hero of the fifth blight did not feel particularly sneaky. Not only because she was 9 months gone with child, due at any time, but also because she closely followed by her husband, who did not have a sneaky bone in his body. It also didn’t help that he was watching her like she could explode at any moment. Sighing she moved at a stately walk (waddle) through the corridors of the castle, heading towards the visitor’s quarters.

“Ali…. Be a dear and tell Teagan to take the bodyguard for a tour outside before the snow arrives. You know how much he loves showing off the horses.”

Alistair stepped from around the corner looking slightly chastened at being caught. She laughed.

“You are hardly sneaky, my love. You should ask Zev the next time he comes to visit.”

“He said I was impossible to teach.” Alistair answered, disgruntled.

“Ah. Well, please ask Teagan.”

“But…” He looked at her, and then looked at her protruding stomach.

“Dearest, I am not going to explode right now. I am sure Guard Kimber will get you if it does happen though. Right Kimber?” She turned to look at the guard standing behind her, who was rigidly standing to attention.

“Yes, your majesty.” She saluted smartly. Ellie sighed internally. She hated breaking in new guards. Since her previous guard captain had married and moved to South Reach a month ago, she’d been trying to get Guard Kimber to relax a bit. But the woman seemed inordinately fond of the stick stuck up her ass.

“If you hurry, Ali… you’ll be back before anything interesting happens.” Alistair rolled his eyes at her, before coming to kiss her softly, and run his hand over her distended belly.

“Stay in there while I am gone.” He leant over to whisper to it, and then kissed the impression of a foot that appeared through Ellie’s shirt. Ellie laughed and shoved him away. He gave her puppy dog eyes before walking away, his own guards falling into formation behind him. Ellie just smiled. Foolish, silly, lovely man.

“Onwards, Kimber?” She asked politely.

A short time later she stopped in front of the door to the Trevelyan guest suite and raised her hand to knock.

“Ah… your majesty?” Kimber interrupted.

“Yes?”

“Molly said word was given that no servants, not even Trevelyan servants could enter the apartments today. So, there maybe no one there to answer.”

“Well, then… Queen’s prerogative. This is my house, and I’ll go where I like.” She riffled through her pocket and pulled out the master key. The lock opened and the door slid open soundlessly.

The room seemed normal as far as sitting rooms went. There were meal and ale leftovers on the table by the fireplace, which had been banked. There were papers littering the desk in the corner and a few doublets draped across the back of the couch. Both the other doors where shut, but it was only the one on the right that was locked, and Ellie swore she saw a shadow moving under the bottom of the door.

“Kimber, stand guard and let Alistair in when he returns.” Kimber saluted, and stood by her post, eyes forward.

She walked towards the locked door and slid the master key into the lock and twisted it open. Pushing the door open with her foot, she stood out of sight until she was sure no attack would be coming before entering with caution.

“Hello?” Silence returned to her, but she knew she could hear breathing other than her own.

“Please come out, if I get down on the floor to look under things, I’ll never get up again and Alistair will panic.” She spoke softly and moved to sit on the end of the bed, her back was aching after all.

She waited a few minutes, feeling the other occupant in the room thinking about her request. Then a soft voice spoke.

“You shouldn’t be in here… they won’t like it.”

“My dear. I can go where I please, when ever I please. Not even the king can tell me not to.”

“Really?” There was a musical quality to her voice, but also a great deal of fear and reticence.

“Really. Please come out of hiding. I promise no harm will come to you. I am just here to talk.” Ellie grimaced a little as her back twinged harder.

From in front of her, the air wavered for a moment, and a young woman appeared. Her large green eyes were bruised with exhaustion, her face gaunt and her dress hung from her shoulders, clinging to a body long denied food or decent care. There was still a luminous beauty to her, but Eleanor’s heart broke as she saw all the poorly healed bruises the were on her arms, chest and neck.

“Oh, my dear! Who did this to you?!” Horrified she stood up fast and gathered the woman in her arms.

“Well…” The woman hedged… clearly unsure what to do in the face of such open affection, or gentle touches. Eleanor was incensed. Beatings like this were illegal in Fereldan, if the perpetrators were caught.

“My dear, I promise, you are safe. I was sent to help you.” Ellie looked at the frightened woman.

“You were? No one knows I am here.” The disbelief showed clearly on her face. “If they find out someone knows I am here, they’ll take me away and send me to a circle. I don’t want to go to a circle.” The terror was clear in her voice.

“No… no! The circles are no more! Do not concern yourself.” Ellie decided to take a step back, mentally at least.

“I am Eleanor Theirin. Who are you?”

“I am… Saoirse Trevelyan-du Maurier.” Eleanor nodded.

“And, are you the sister of Benjamin Trevelyan?” She decided to drop the mention of him being the Inquisitor and Herald of Andraste – if she didn’t know about the disbanded circles, then she likely had no idea about the rifts or the current fight to stop Corypheus.

“I am.” She confirmed. “But… I haven’t seen him in 16 years. Father told me… he died in a hunting accident. Father lied.” There was anger in her voice, and a resounding disbelief that was obviously the centre of what little courage she had to continue on. “I… want to find him… but I don’t know where to start.” She jumped when she heard the door in the outer chamber open and a male voice talk to someone in the other room.

“Have no concern… T’is probably Alistair. The man would follow me into the privy given half a chance.” Ellie moved away from the woman, placing both hands on the small of her back as the pains increased and spread to her stomach.

“Woof! That was a good one.” She murmured to herself, patting her stomach and mentally ordering her child to settle down for a moment. She turned back to the Saoirse and plastered a smile on her face.

“Okay, now that’s clear. Is the perpetrator of those marks your father or your husband? Or both perhaps?” Saoirse looked down at the floor and seemed to fall into herself, shrinking and trying to disappear. Ellie was sure she was not going to answer, when she did at last speak.

“Both. Father because I have magic and he thinks I should have used it to saved mother. My husband because I have not given him a son. Only a daughter…but…” She closed her lips tightly and refused to continue speaking, eyes still firmly on the ground.

“I see…” Ellie moved again; this time unable to stop the groan that broke through her attempt to keep it quiet.

“Majesty?” The timid voice broke through Ellie’s mental scream. She turned to face the woman.

“May I?” She pointed to Ellie’s stomach. “I… I am a spirit healer… and I think you need some help.”

Biting her own tongue to keep another groan from coming forth and grabbing Alistair attention, she nodded. Saoirse hands began to glow golden bright and she placed them softly over the babe. Her eyes snapped to Ellie’s, and any fear that had been there previously disappeared as she became the healer right before Ellie’s eyes.

“Your babe is coming, now.” Her voice now carried a choral note, like a group of people were speaking the words with Saoirse. “This will not be slow. They are impatient to see the world.”

“They?!” Ellie whispered. “The midwife didn’t mention…” Her words were cut off as there was a sudden splash of liquid between her feet. “Oh… oh!” Ellie looked at Saoirse in fear, now it was her turn to feel terrified as her reality turned upside down.

“Do not fear. We will help you. But you must return to your rooms. Now!” The chorus was adamant. Ellie did what Ellie did best when she was scared, she opened her mouth and screamed.

“ALISTAIR!!!!!!!!!”

The king was in the room in moments, gripping the hilt of his swords he glared at Saoirse, before taking in his wife’s stricken face, and trembling body. He continued looking down until he reached the floor, where clear liquid was forming a large puddle under her feet.

“Uh?” He muttered, going mind blank.

“Take her to her rooms, King of Fereldan. The babes are coming. Now.” Saoirse’s choral voice broke through his mental panic and he picked up his frozen wife and cradled her to his chest carefully.

“Lead the way. We do not have time to delay.” Saoirse put a gentle hand on the king’s back. “We are a spirit healer. We will help the Queen. Do not fear.” He nodded numbly, and carefully maneuvered Ellie through the door, past Kimber and out into the corridor. He did have the idea to talk to his guard, asking them to tell Eamon what was happening before walking off quickly towards the royal suite, his wife softly panting or groaning as the contractions tore through her body.

Arriving at their destination, he turned to Saoirse, a lost look on his face. Though Saoirse was hosting her companion spirits, she did smirk to herself at his seeming inability to know what to do with himself or his labouring wife.

 _It happens a lot, Little One. He is no different just because of his title._ The gentle rivaini accented voice of her spirit of healing spoke in her head. She sent the idea of the smile to the gentle spirit and a flash of agreement.

“Place her on the bed, Sire. And lift her skirts to her hips. We must check to see her progress.” Alistair responded to the choral voice, sliding her onto the cool sheets, before moving behind her, settling her between his legs, supporting her back.

“I’m staying.” He spoke with determination, eyeing the woman now kneeling between Ellie’s legs. Ellie herself was rhythmically humming loudly whilst the pains rocked her body, her head leaning back on Alistair’s shoulder, her hands grasping both of his tightly.

“We wouldn’t dream of asking you to leave. Your place is here, at her side. As always.” Saoirse gently examined the labouring queen, and it quickly became apparent that the birth was but moment away.

“Eleanor, you need to push when the next pain comes. Majesty hold onto the backs on her thighs and give her something to push against. Now, Eleanor… push!”

For the next few minutes, Saoirse coached and helped the queen, whilst Alistair held her legs and whispered words of encouragement into her ears. With a final push, the babe was born, his birth howl echoing around the room. Eleanor collapsed back against her husband and looked at the faintly glowing healer between her legs.

“ _He’s a strong one, Lassie_.” The voice that echoed through Saoirse’s was male and a new spirit to her. She turned her head and saw the vague glowing figure of a tall bearded man standing beside the bed, looking down at the baby in her arms and the tearful couple leaning against each other on the bed.

“Maric!” Saoirse blurted, looking at the spirit, recognising him from the few books she had been allowed in her room in Starkhaven. She grabbed a towel that had been thrown on the end of the bed and quickly wrapped the crying boy child. Passing him to his mother, she continued staring at the spirit. It dipped his head to acknowledge her and moved to stand beside Alistair, who was looking at her strangely, then looking at the spot she was staring at. She felt her own spirits take a step back, and allowed her to concentrate on the king and the spirit in front of her.

“What’s going on?” He asked, confusion evident in his voice. Saoirse swallowed and looked at the King.

“I am a spirit healer… and I can sometimes see other spirits…. When their need is great. King Maric is standing next to you. You might feel his hand on your head, because he is touching the top of your head.”

“And he chose now, to come and see me?” The disbelief was strong in his voice.

 _“I could not come through before, there was no one strong enough to hear me.”_ Maric looked to her. “ _He looks so much like me. I wish I could have given him the life he deserved, the one that was his birthright. Tell him… tell him I will watch over his children. It is a duty I will gladly do for the rest of their lives.”_ He paused. _“Tell him, that I loved him. Tell him that his mother loves him. When you get to Skyhold… tell her about them. It will bring her peace. You will know who she is.”_ He reached out again and touched Alistair’s cheek. “ _I’m so proud of you, my son.”_ Maric faded away, and Saoirse returned her gaze to the King.

“He said that he wishes that he could have given you the life you deserved, your birthright and that he loved you and is proud of you. He said he would watch over your children, for the rest of their lives.” She stated quietly. Alistair looked like he wanted to argue, but instead chose to accept the words, and smiled at her gratefully.

“Thank you, Healer. I… I appreciate the words.” He looked back down at his wife, and the babe in her arms, reaching over to run a gentle finger tip down his button nose and plump cheek as he nuzzled against his mother’s breast.

Ellie looked at Saoirse and gave her a wan smile. “Maybe you should get Molly in here?’ She suggested. “Because the pains are starting again, and I think I will need both of my hands.”

“What?” Alistair asked, looking from his wife to the baby and then at the healer.

“Your wife is having twins, Majesty.” Saoirse muttered as she stood from the bed, ignoring the sounds of surprise being muttered against Ellie’s hair.

“Twins? You do have to do things the difficult way, my love. First you defy the odds and get pregnant and now twins?! I love you so much, Eleanor Theirin.”

Saoirse opened the bed chamber door, only to be greeted by a room crowded with officials and worried looking nobles.

“Um…. I am looking for Molly?” She asked, the fear of all these tall men making her shake a little. She felt her spirits crowd back into her and stood a little straighter.

A tall redhaired man came forward, frowning at her.

“I am Eleanor’s brother, Fergus. Who are you and what’s happening in there?”

“I am a healer and the queen has given birth to a boy. But another one is coming, and I need someone to hold the little prince.” Eleanor’s started to rhythmically hum again, and she could hear Alistair’s whispered encouragement.

“The girl is on leave today, but I will hold him.” Fergus stepped through the door, refusing to look on at his sister, and held his arms out for the babe. Saoirse lifted the now sleeping babe from his mother’s arms and settled him against his uncle’s chest. She felt the spirits completely enter her body as she began to glow.

“It’s important that they stay away from large groups of people for a while. Especially a few of the nobles in the other room. They have colds and that could disrupt the humors of the wee ones to bad effect.” Saoirse’s choral voice instructed as she turned to the bed once more.

Fergus turned from the bed, and moved towards the window, letting the sunlight flow over his nephew’s peaceful face. He felt his heart contract, remembering how his little Orin had looked in the hours after his birth, but it soon dissipated in the wonder of new love for the sleeping creature held within his arms.

Saoirse coached the labouring queen once more, knowing that she was tiring but determined. Alistair gripped the back of her thighs again as she began to push, whispering words of encouragement and love to her. Minutes later, with another loud groan, the second babe arrived, the birth cry just as loud as the first.

Cutting and tying off the cord, Saoirse wrapped the child in a small blanket she had grabbed before returning to the queen and passed the bundle to its waiting parents.

“Your daughter, your Majesties.” She smiled at the both, her already exhausted body tiring further as her spirits once more left. She busied herself with checking the afterbirth and sending small healing pulses into Ellie to help with the pain and muscles strain caused by the entire process.

Alistair was speechless, staring down at the tiny girl in wonder. He looked over at Fergus, who had moved to Eleanor’s other side, smiling at his sister and showing her the small boy he held protectively in his arms. “She’s beautiful.” He muttered, bringing a trembling hand up to touch the curling ginger hair on top of her head. Ellie nodded sleepily, bringing the girl to her breast and resting her head against Alistair’s shoulder.

“Do you have any name’s, sister?” Fergus asked softly. She opened one eye and smiled at him.

“For him? Maric Bryce Theirin. And for this little lady?” She paused and looked at Saoirse, who was leaning against the bed post, quietly watching the small family together.

“What was your mother’s name, Saoirse?” She asked softly.

“Catriona Elizabeth Trevelyan.” Saoirse answered softly.

“For this little one…” Ellie paused. “Catriona Eleanor Theirin. After Saoirse’s mother and my own.” She finished softly.

Alistair smiled against the sweaty hair at her temple.

“Maric Bryce and Catriona Eleanor. Welcome to the world, Pups.” He held his arms out to Fergus, who a little reluctantly, passed the sleeping Maric over to his father and got up from the bed.

“I will inform Eamon, who will make the official announcements.” He got up from the bed and headed towards the door, when Ellie’s sleepy voice stopped him.

“Come back when you are done, brother. I want all my family with me right now.” Fergus turned and smiled at her.

“Of course, pup. There’s nowhere else I’d rather be.” He quickly disappeared through the door. Second later there was a mighty cheer from the neighbouring room, and shouts of congratulations. Saoirse was tired but rose to her feet.

“I must return to my room before I am found missing…” She stuttered, her movements slow and the room beginning to tilt.

Ellie woke up when she heard the slur in the healer’s tone.

“Ali, she cannot return to those rooms. We must keep her safe. From both of them.” Alistair looked over at Saoirse, finally seeing the bruises and contusions that shadowed her skin.

“Yes, Love. I will take care of it. Never fear.” He began to wiggle his way out from behind her when it became increasingly clear that Saoirse as finding it increasingly difficult to remain standing. He was too late however, her eyes rolled back in her head and she crumpled to the ground, exhausted, but trusting that both the King and Queen of Fereldan would keep their promise. Her last thought was to her rivaini spirit, asking her to watch over her as she slept. She felt the spirit nearby, even as she was lifted into a pair of strong arms. She felt safe. And so, she slept.


	5. Chapter 5

Alistair leaned against the bed head, watching over his wife and children as they slept. Occasionally he would look over to the frail figure sleeping on the window seat, making sure that she was okay too. Running his fingers lightly through Ellie’s hair at the temple, he contemplated the healer.

Though he’d only met Benjamin Trevelyan once, and hardly under promising circumstances, he’d been impressed with his open honesty when dealing with the mages, and by the fact that they had sent teams of workers, materials and gold to help restore the damage done by the mages in Redcliffe Castle. She certainly looked similar to the man, and that would increase once she got some fat on her bones and away from the two men responsible for her condition. He didn’t understand why anyone would feel the need to beat the one they were supposed to care for. He couldn’t imagine ever doing that to his little girl. He looked down at the infant resting against his thigh and reached down a gentle hand to stroke over her wavy ginger hair, so similar in colour to his own. He was contemplating his little family, when the crystal began to vibrate again on the side table behind him.

Carefully, he turned and picked it up, uttering the word to connect with the caller.

“Ellie?” Leliana’s voice filled the room.

“Shhhhhhhh!” Alistair whispered. “Speak quietly, or you’ll wake everyone up.” He saw a frown grow between Ellie’s eyes, before it smooth away.

“Everyone?” Came the hopeful response. “You found Saoirse?”

“Err… yes. And she helped us find two other people.” He gazed down at his children, his heart so full he could barely stand to breath at the perfection of them.

“Bann Travelyan had more than Saoirse trapped?” Leliana got straight down to business.

“Ahh… no. Ellie did. But they are quite free now, and so beautiful. No bigger than a medium sized cheese wheel.” He gushed.

“Oh. OH! They?” Leliana quietly squeaked, and Alistair could envision her doing a little dance of delight in the rookery.

“Yes, it seems one of them decided to play hide and seek, but mostly hide from the midwife. We have a son AND a daughter.” He stated proudly.

Leliana squealed again. “Oh!!! I will announce it at once! It will give everyone something to celebrate whilst we are stuck in this Maker forsaken blizzard. What are they called?”

Grinning, down at his wife, who was now looking at him with sleepy eyes and a small smile, he answered. “Maric Bryce and Catriona Eleanor.”

“Such good strong names… though Catriona is a Free March name, from near Starkhaven.”

“That’s because it was Saoirse’s mother’s name.” Ellie spoke quietly, not wanting to awaken either child or the sleeping woman curled up on the other side of the room.

“Ah, _mon amour_! I am sorry to wake you.” Leliana did sound moderately contrite.

“No, it’s okay. This is just as important.” She paused. “It’s imperative that she is taken away from here as soon as possible. She has been beaten, I think by both her father… and her husband. She mentioned a girl child briefly, but nothing more. They had her locked in one of the spare rooms in their suite. She’s half starved. She is both physically and emotionally traumatised.”

“We aren’t sure how to get her out of the Castle without being seen. Eamon told me that the Ostwick retinue have been searching all allowed levels of the castle for several hours now, and the Bann has made one attempt to call on me, to discuss something urgent.” Alistair added. “Eamon told him to sod off, and that the births of the heirs to Fereldan trumped his issues.”

“That is not a problem, Alistair.” Sighing, Leliana paused for a moment, gathering her thoughts. “I’ve enlisted some help…. Though I am not sure you will be pleased at the source.”

That piqued his interest, and Ellie raised an eyebrow as she looked at him.

“Who?”

“Morrigan.” Came the short answer.

“Oh.” No… he wasn’t pleased. “Tell me, how is Morrigan going to help?” He kept his voice steady.

“In three hours, the mirror in your room will start to glow. When it does, approach it and run your hand down its surface. Then step back, the magic usage for this kind of work takes a great deal of effort, so time will be of essence. It is imperative that those that pass through it, return with Saoirse within moments of their arrival. And that this method of retrieval remains a secret. There is already enough distrust for mages.”

“Yes… yes there is. So Morrigan is going to swoop through the mirror to save the day? Swooping bad, you know.” He stated calmly, a fact helped by the fact that his daughter had opened her eyes and was calmly looking at him. He cooed down at her, a big, delighted smile over his face.

“Never mind him, Leli. We’ll be ready. But tell the Inquisitor to limit who she sees for a while. Aside from when her spirits are with her, she is terrified and so many things have been kept from her. I am not sure she is going to cope well to start off with.” Leliana was quiet.

“I’ll tell Ben. Is she badly hurt? Physically, I mean.”

“No. She has bruises and contusions. I think her spirits heal the worst. But I don’t believe she has enough to do more at the moment. She used so much power helping me this morning, she is still sleeping, and it doesn’t look like she’ll be awake any time soon.” Ellie moved to sit up, groaning a little with her abused stomach muscles and picked up Catriona as soon as she started to fuss, placing her at the breast.

“I see. We are preparing for her arrival here, the Inquisitor and Morrigan will be there at the 13th bell. And… congratulations, _mon amour,_ Alistair. We are all so pleased for you.” The transmission ended and Alistair and Ellie looked at each other.

Alistair winked at her. “Once again, I am just Alistair. Why can’t she call me, _mon amour_ for once?” He playfully whined.

Ellie let out a little giggle. “I call you my love all the time.”

“Well, that’s is far better.” He agreed, moving to kiss her forehead lightly. “Because you are mine too.”


	6. Chapter 6

Two hour and half hours later, Saoirse stood staring at the giant mirror, her lip caught between her teeth.

“And Ben is going to come through that mirror and take me where? Where is Skyhold?” She clutched the blanket she had woken under around her shoulders. The wool was soft to the touch and a pale green colour that felt soothing.

Ellie sat in the bed, held in Alistair’s arms as they tried to calmly explain what was happening, without giving too many details and risk upsetting her.

“It is in the Frostback Mountains, directly on the border between Fereldan and Orlais.” She answered. “There is a contingent of Warden’s there, plus the free mages of Fereldan and numerous others. You will be well protected.”

Saoirse nodded, still looking at the mirror contemplatively. “I haven’t heard of such magic like this, but maybe I’ll get to learn.” She turned to the royal couple and smiled at the warmly.

“You didn’t have to do this, but I may not have a chance to say this again, or at least for a very long time. But… thank you. I’d never have been able to do this by myself.”

“Maybe you would have… In your own time.” Alistair responded.

“Maybe, your Majesty. But I don’t think that was likely. I couldn’t see a way out.” She looked at the mirror again, noting that it had a very faint glow and knew that the time was nearly upon them.

“Before I leave, I have a gift for you. From my spirits. Can I give it to you? Both of you?” Alistair and Ellie looked at her and nodded.

“Hold out your hands, please.” Saoirse took their hands in hers and closed her eyes, her body started to shine with a golden light and warmth moved from her hands and up to the pair before engulfing them completely. Both felt something small and dark break inside and fall away and they stared at her with open mouths. The glow started to fade, and she stood back and gave them both a small smile.

“We think you should have time to enjoy your family, rather than worrying for the end. You will hear the calling no longer. You will not have to enter the Deep Roads. You are free from the taint.” Saoirse’s choral voice spoke to them clearly before that too faded away.

“I… we don’t know what to say.” Ellie whispered. “You have given us something I never thought to hope for.”

“And so did you.” Saoirse turned back to the mirror, the light surrounding it growing brighter. She felt her nerves twang tighter. “I’m scared.” Her fingers began to twist around each other, and she began to rock back and forth every so slightly, obviously trying to self soothe her fears and gather what courage she could.

“I’m not going to lie to you, Saoirse… this will be hard. But I hope it will be for the best.” Ellie sniffled, tears still sliding down her cheeks, whilst Alistair just stared at the small healer in wonder.

Taking a deep breath, she reached out and slid her fingers down the surface of the mirror and then stepped back, unconsciously seeking comfort from the couple behind her as the mirror flashed brighter. She wrapped her hand around the bed post and stared solemnly at the swirling lights that moved over the giant mirrors surface. Moment’s later a long tapering hand appeared, followed by a tall, slender body, scantily clad in red linen and black leather. She immediately smiled at the couple on the bed, and raised her hand in greetings, but didn’t utter a word. Behind her a figure moved in the mirror, and then stepped into the room, standing to full height and ignoring all in the room beside the figure by the bed. He stood motionless; his blue eyes caught in her. Finally, another slightly shorter figure excited the mirror. A debonair man, dressed in beautifully tailored mage robes, and a well-tended moustache. He smiled at the pair and stepped forward.

Saoirse just continued to stare at the black-haired man before her. He was so different from the last time she had seen him, and yet the same. She looked down at her scarred palm and held it out to him. He cracked a half smile, and show her his palm, and its matching scar before moving to her and crashing to his knees in front of her, gathering her into his arms and burying his face against her chest.

“Seerie!” He muttered over and over.

Saoirse looked started at the unknown man and woman for a moment, both looking at Ben with fondness, before wrapping her arms around his shoulders, weaving her fingers through his thick hair.

“Ben.” She whispered and clutched him tightly, revelling in the sight and feel of him. Finally, it felt like a lost and broken part of her had been restored.

*********

Dorian stepped forward again and smiled at the couple on the bed.

“Greetings again your Majesties. I am Dorian Pavus. We met a few years ago, when the Tevinter Imperium sent Magister Halward to negotiate for some of your excellent wool.” Alistair nodded.

“You didn’t have a moustache then.”

“I remember… I am pleased to have grown such a glorious one now.” Dorian smirked and bowed floridly to the bemused monarch.

“We don’t have much time, less than five minutes, so I will be brief. We are going to take Lady Trevelyan back to Skyhold. We have a mage well versed in dreamer knowledge that will help her and hopefully aid in training her skills. Once Ben lets her out of his sight of course.” He turned to look at his love, both Ben and Saoirse seemed locked in their own world.

“We will send regular updates by raven, but Leliana asks that you make it difficult for her father and husband to know of her location until we can ascertain the true depths of what happened to her, and hopefully gain more evidence for a trial.”

Ellie nodded, emphatically. “With delight.” Dorian stepped back and touched Ben gently on the shoulder.

“Time to return, Amatus.” Benjamin stood, keeping his arm around his sister and turned to Alistair and Ellie on the bed.

“Thank you for finding her, your Majesties. For keeping her safe. I am at your disposal.” He awkwardly bowed to them both and moved Saoirse towards the mirror. She turned her head to the pair and smiled softly at them and raised her hand in farewell before stepping through with him, followed closely by Dorian.

Morrigan walked towards the pair on the bed, stopping only to smile softly down at the babies nestled together in their cradle at their side.

“Congratulations.” She spoke softly, before turning her full attention on Alistair. She held out a scroll for him and after he took it, stepped back and disappeared into the mirror. Its surface rippled for a moment and then returned to normal. Alistair stared down at the scroll and then up at Ellie.

“Open it, Love.” His fingers trembled a bit as he unrolled it and he bit back a gasp. Drawn on the page was the image of a young boy, his facial features remarkable in their similarity to Morrigan’s. Except for his jawline and smile. Both bore a strong resemblance to Alistair. Underneath it was a short note:

Dear Alistair,

This is Kieran, your son. Enough time has passed that I regret my actions towards you after the end of the blight, and should you choose we are both at Skyhold, should you want to meet him.

M.

Ellie looked at her husband, who was now openly sobbing, the page held carefully in his hands. She reached out and wiped the tears from his cheek with her thumb.

“It looks like we are going to Skyhold, when winter breaks.” She murmured. Alistair rested his head on her shoulder and merely nodded. Both of them were quiet, overwhelmed by the proceedings of the day, and their sudden amazing future.


	7. Chapter 7

Saoirse collapsed the minute she arrived in the Skyhold and would have fallen to the floor had Ben’s arm not been around her waist. He simply swung her up into arms and excited the Eluvian room and headed towards the great hall and his tower. She felt so slight in his arms, like she was barely there, and he felt rage build in him again as he thought of what had happened to her and who was responsible for it.

He gripped her tighter and stepped through the door into the hall, startling a bit when all talking, and music stopped at his appearance. He nodded to Varric and quickly moved to his own door, ignoring the tittering whispers following him through to his apartments. His only concern was for Seerie, and right now he knew they both needed to be close to each other. When he reached his room, he gently placed her in the centre of his bed and sat next to her, holding her hands and watching her heartbeat flutter through the thin skin on her neck. She was so terribly pale, the darkness of the bruises showing across her arms, chest, throat and what he could see of her legs.

Below the door into the apartments opened and he turned in time to see Dorian, Solas and Cole enter the room and stand at the end of the bed. It wasn’t long before Cole flitted to her other side, his palm coming out to gently hold her other hand. He looked at Ben, an earnest smile covering his features.

“She will shine bright. She is already glowing. Warm, safe but scared. Afraid it’s a dream but doesn’t want to change it. She will find happiness here if she is left to find it herself.” He looked at her and touched a finger to her nose. “I will help her. But I will not take the memories. She wants to remember them. He will protect her.” He gently reached over and turned Saoirse’s palm over to the show the mark now colouring the centre of her palm. Ben and Dorian gasped. Having done speaking, the boy disappeared from the room, leaving the other occupants shaking their heads.

“I think, Amatus, that was Cole’s way of telling you to let her be herself and choose for herself. I think she has had no choices of her own until now. The best gift for her would be to let her find out who she is, on her own.”

“I’m not leaving her again, Dorian.” Ben muttered, clutching her hand tightly. “Especially not until we find out who has the similar mark.”

“I’m not asking you to, Amatus. Just encourage her to find who she is, on her own terms.” Ben nodded and reached out to run his fingers through the loose hair at her temple.

“She looks like mother. How could someone treat someone like this?” Both Solas and Dorian knew the question was rhetorical and so let it pass. Solas stepped over to free side and sat on the bed, taking her hand in his own.

“May I, Lethallin?” He asked. “I need to see exactly how to assist her.” Ben swallowed and nodded.

“I will stay here though.” He stated, unwilling to be parted from her.

“Of course.” Solas moved to kneel beside Saoirse and placed his hands on her temples and closed his eyes, his mind reaching for hers. After a few moments he rocked back on his heals and looked at the sleeping woman in astonishment.

“Well.” He muttered, the look of surprise still apparent, and he seemed slightly perturbed as he moved to get to his feet and pace.

“Solas?” Dorian asked. “I think you are worrying Ben.”

“Oh… yes. Sorry.” Solas paused and rubbed at his forehead with his long slender fingers. “She is both a very powerful spirit healer and dreamer. Though the latter is largely untapped.” He moved to stand next to the bed and reached out his hand to take hers again.

“I’ve not seen power like this, in a very long time. She has not been taught in a circle. She has had no use for a staff. You should have no fear of possession, however. There three strong spirits that aid your sister. I believe they are the only reason why she still lives. They guard her when she sleeps.” He looked at Ben. “I shall enjoy getting to know them and speaking with them, if I am given the chance, and they choose to speak to me.” He placed her hand back down on the bed carefully. “When she is better, I will help her with her dreamer skills. Despite the protection her spirits give her in the fade, there is more I can teach her, if she chooses to do so.”

He walked to the stone stairway leading to the exit, and picked a small box placed there. “There are some restorative potions in here and a few that will allow her to tolerate a wider variety of foods without feeling ill. Though I still recommend that she takes it easy.” He placed the box on the desk and bowed to both the men. “I will return to the rotunda, should you need me.” He quietly left the room and disappeared out of the door. Ben returned to watching his sister but leaned back against Dorian when he came to sit behind him, welcoming his support.

“I wish they were both here. I’d have them thrown in irons and cast into the darkest pit Skyhold had to offer.” He muttered.

“I know, Amatus. We will see justice for you.” He turned to look out the balcony, watching the light fade, though the scenery was still obscured through the swirls of thick snow. Then he leaned over and turned Saoirse’s hand over, the radiant circle mark shining a pale gold in the centre of her palm.

“This only complicates things a little. And it was meant if it has shown up now. Have no fear. Josephine says to tell you that her rooms will be completed within a few days. She has asked Gatsi to complete the rooms below this one to accommodate her. Leliana said that she would drop by to speak with Saoirse in a few days and hopes that by then she will feel comfortable enough to share her story. It will be important if there is to be a trial.”

“Oh, there will be.” Ben stated darkly. “There most certainly will be.” Dorian nodded in agreement.

“Well, if that’s it. I will depart, Amatus. I am sure you want some time alone with your sister, yes?”

“No, please stay Dor. This is your home and you’re my family too.” Ben tilted his head to the side and kissed Dorian softly. “I’d never ask or want you to leave.”

“As you wish, Amatus. I will not leave your side.” He wrapped his arms around Ben’s waist and leaned his head against his back. Ben sighed. Content to be with the two people who meant the most to him.

***

Saoirse’s eyes slowly slid open. She was warm, almost too warm. The light was dim, and the room smelt of cedar and pine as the fires burned in the fireplace. She tried to roll over quietly but found herself trapped against a large body and she immediately stiffened, fear rolling through her. Had he found her? No, that was unlikely. He’d never curled up with her like this before. She slowly turned her head to look over her right shoulder and gasped softly. Beside her lay Ben, curled around her protectively, sleeping deeply. Behind him slept the man who had come through the mirror in Denerim, one hand tucked up near his face and the other slung over Ben’s hip in graceful abandon.

She considered them both as they slept. It was clear that there was more to their relationship. They were more than just friends. She craned her head a little and saw part of a tattoo on the palm of the other man’s hand and gently lifted Ben’s seeking and finding a similar mark there as well. She smiled, pleased. _Father definitely would not approve of this,_ she thought to herself. Ben looked so content and young as he slept, no cares or worries on his face. She twisted in his embrace and raised herself up on an elbow to look down at his face. _He looks like Father, though his jaw looks like mothers from the portrait._ She reached out her hand and ran a finger down his nose. It had obviously been broken more than once. There was movement behind him, and Saoirse raised her eyes to meet sleepy hazel ones. She regarded the other man for a moment.

“You love him.” She said it was quiet certainty.

“Yes.” He answered.

“Good.” Was all she said and lay back down.

“That’s it?” came the question after a few second of hesitation.

“There’s supposed to be more? You have the mating marks and I just want Ben to be happy and loved. You do that?”

“Yes…. Yes, he does.” Ben’s deep voice broke into their conversation and she looked down at him and smiled.

“I’m glad. Everyone deserves that…. But not everyone gets it.” She whispered sadly.

Ben pulled her back down on to the bed and tucked her against his chest.

“Just sleep, Seerie. You are safe here, with Dorian and me. Right Dor?” He asked, his voice sleepy once more.

“Of course. The only thing she was missing was a fabulous brother-in-law. She’s lucky I volunteered for the position.” Dorian quipped from behind him, before reaching over a hand and gently squeezing Saoirse’s for a moment.

“All things at your own pace. Remember that.” He whispered.


	8. Chapter 8

Saoirse spent two weeks hiding in her rooms, only letting Dorian or Ben in. She relished her space, pleased that everything in it was something she wanted there, and was hers. Not things that could be taken from her on a whim. It took her those two weeks to stop jumping at sounds made around the castle or the shouts of men training, or even the sounds of people walking along the corridor towards her door.

She flat out refused to talk about anything relating to her past, finding it hard to even talk to Leliana when she approached her to get more details. She just wanted to forget, sleep and find herself again. It also gave her time to contemplate the golden mark on her palm. Somewhere in Skyhold, someone had the same mark as she. That excited her unbearably, but also terrified her. She wasn’t sure she’d be able cope with another man in her life. At least not now.

For now, she enjoyed spending time with Ben and Dorian. The teased and sniped at each other incessantly, and by extension her too. She had missed being silly with her brother, or just spending time quietly talking. It still blew her mind that he was the Herald of Andraste and the head of the Inquisition. She had taken to her rooms, silent for two days after they had broken the news, angry at such important information being withheld from her. It was just one more thing to resent her father and husband for. All that she’d been told was that she was a curse on them by the Maker, and she was a failure when she hadn’t. No… she was not going think about that. There was no point in doing so. Ben had told her, that as soon as she was ready, he would inform the Bann and du Maurier that the marriage had been dissolved under divine law. Since she was so obviously destined for someone else, chosen for her by the Marker, then it was obvious to the Herald of Andraste that she had not consented to the first marriage in the first place.

One evening, shortly after sundown, Ben knocked on the door and entered, looking worried. Saoirse was sitting in the window seat reading a book and admiring the distant lights of the small Skyhold village a little further down the hill, her finger running over the mating mark absentmindedly.

“Seerie?” His voice sounded troubled.

She carefully replaced her bookmark and looked at him, one eyebrow raised.

He smiled slightly. In the last few weeks she had filled out a fair amount, her cheeky rounder and healthier. She was still skinny, but at least she seemed to be on the mend, especially since all the bruising had faded away.

“What’s the matter, Ben?” Her voice was soft, but musical and had lost the undertones of fear it had held when she had first arrived.

“I am leaving in the morning for the Emerald Graves. There is a man there who may have information on the Red Templars, and there are reports of rifts that require closing.”

She blinked. This was an aspect of his job she hadn’t truly considered. She knew he was the Herald, but she just hadn’t considered the more interesting aspects of his job.

“Okay.” She said.

“We’ll be gone two weeks, three at the most… though I’ll try to keep it closer to two…. But I can’t promise.”

“Ben. I understand. Dorian will come visit me at night, yes?’

“Ah… no, Seerie. Dorian is coming with me. His assistance in the field is invaluable… and I can’t leave him behind.”

“Oh.” She paused. “Will he take me to the library to get some more books before you go? I am almost done with these.” She pointed to the book pile right by her feet.

“He is tied up right now… but I am hoping you will be willing to let another person into your life. He can stay with you the entire time we are gone, and make sure you are safe.” Ben was nervous, and Saoirse knew why. Up until this point she had refused to meet any others, preferring to stay where it was warm and safe. No chance of running into someone who may know her father or husband and may spread word of her whereabouts.

“Who?” She asked, curious about who her brother had chosen as her temporary guardian.

“Blackwall, he has a troubled past, but I find him to be an honourable and upstanding man.”

“Why would he want to guard me?”

“He got injured during a bandit raid in Fereldan just before you arrived and hasn’t been clear to return to duty yet. He’s driving everyone insane because he’s bored. I figure you could use a friend like him, and he could definitely use a new friend to occupy his time.” Ben looked at her hopefully.

“You know… I don’t need a guard, Ben.”

“I know Seerie, I just think it might help for now.” She looked down at him, feeling bad, knowing that she had kept him from his duties with her need for him to be near to allay her fears.

He dropped to his knees beside her and took her face in his hands.

“No, no feeling bad for being as you are. It is not your fault. There are others to blame, and one day they will answer for it.” He spoke clearly and smiled into her sad eyes.

“Come to the great hall for dinner with Dorian and me this evening. You can meet Krem and tell me what you think of all the pomp and carrying on that happens.” He gave her a wide eyed, puppy dog looks complete with a pouty fat lip and she laughed despite herself.

“Okay… but I reserve the right to leave whenever I want to.” She stood and straightened the tunic she had stolen from Dorian. It was a silvery green colour and she quite liked the snake motifs embroidered on the back.

“Of course, Seerie.” Ben stood and wrapped his arm around hers at the elbow. “I have it on good authority that there will be strawberry tarts for dessert this evening.” He made a yummy noise and patted his flat belly. Saoirse laughed up at him.

“Mother always said….”

“Eat dessert first!” He crowed. She giggled.

“Not exactly, but she’s hardly here to stop you, is she?” Gripping his arm tight with her hand, she took a deep breath and left the room with him, nerves jangling.


	9. Chapter 9

At first experience, the Great Hall was loud and completely overwhelming. There was raucous laughter, the clink of silverware against plates, and the murmuring of voices. So many voices. Saoirse stopped in the doorway and looked at the room with wide eyes, before turning them up to Ben when silence fell over the room and everyone looked in her direction.

“Now, now, now, you bunch of reprobates. You’ve all seen a woman before. Most of you are sitting next to one or are one. Allow me to introduce my sister, Lady Saoirse Trevelyan.” Every soul in the room stood and formally bowed to her. “Take warning, my curious bunch of gossipers. For now, no one approaches the lady unless she wills it. That also means you have to keep those nasty nobles from thinking she is fair game.” He smirked cheekily at Josephine, who pursed her lips and shook her head in dismay. _At least there are no dignitaries in residence at the moment, we really could do without an international incident over dinner._ She thought as the pair passed her chair. She smiled at Saoirse, who returned the gesture, though a little timidly.

Ben walked her through the room, keeping her close to his side and whispering amusing commentary to about different members of the inquisition. She had to stifle a giggle when he revealed that one of the dwarven builders needed a stuffed blue duck to sleep with at night, and one of the guards at the entrance to the hall was moonlighting as a vampire hunter – even though as far as Ben knew, they didn’t strictly exist. He guided her to wooden, but well cushioned chair, and held it out for her, before taking the one on her immediate right. Then crowed in delight.

“See! I told you! Strawberry tarts!” He immediately put three on his plate and two on hers, grinning all the while. She snickered at him and laughed at his antics; he attempted to shove the entire tart in his mouth.

“Hey Stork, save some of those for the rest of us.” A jovial voice broke through her amusement and she sat bolt upright and turned her head towards the voice. Ben finished choking down the tart and gestured grandly towards the dwarf standing beside the chair opposite him.

“Varric, so good of you to crawl out of your writer’s hole and join us this evening. Seerie, this is Varric Tethras. Varric, this is my sister, Saoirse.” Saoirse smiled at him tentatively, reaching up to begin fiddling with the bottom of her braid.

“You’re a writer?” She asked softly. “Can I read something you wrote?” Varric grinned at her.

“I don’t know, Whisper… what kind of things do you like reading?” He pulled out the chair and made himself comfortable, grabbing two of the strawberry tarts from the plate and raising an eyebrow at Ben’s petulant gasp. “Oh, stop it, your Inquisitorialness. All you have to do is smile at the serving lad and he’d get you more.”

“That is entirely beside the point.” Ben continued to pout.

“Maker Ben… you are worse now that you were as a child. Did you know, one time he snuck into mother’s sunroom during one of her afternoon soirees and ate all the…”

“Okay…. That’s enough, Seerie. Mistakes were made… let’s move on. I am sure Varric doesn’t want to hear about my early adventures.”

Saoirse cowered back into her chair and looked down at her lap, instantly cowled at the growl in Ben’s voice. She pulled her braid further over her shoulder and twisted her fingers through the end, all the while trying to make herself as small as possible, muttering “I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” over and over.

It took Ben a moment to notice and he was horrified by the change in her and immediately turned to her, moving to hold the desperately moving fingers and tilt her head up so he could see her eyes.

“Oh no… no, _Leannan_. You’ve done nothing wrong. I was teasing. You’re okay. I promise.” He spoke softly to her, and stroked her hair back from her eyes, trying his best to soothe her.

“You are certain?” She asked softly.

“Yes. You are perfectly fine, sister. Think no more of it.” He smiled at her and was pleased when she returned it tentatively.

“Okay.” She straightened in her seat and tried to ignore all the curious looks she was receiving from around then tables nearby. “What kind of stories do you write? So far, I’ve read about the wardens, the fundamentals of magical healing and Using a Staff, a learners first guide.” She looked at Varric curiously. “Do you write things like that?”

There was a swirl of a robe and a waft of sandalwood before Dorian arrived, taking his seat next to Ben and leaning over to squeeze her hand. “Oh, heavens no! Varric writes adventure stories, mystery and murder, epics for the ages. And smut. Lots of smut.” Varric laughed.

“You didn’t complain about the last update to my mystery novel, Sparkler.”

“I am still forming an opinion.” He muttered, reaching over a taking the last two tarts and setting the neatly beside his empty plate. He pinned Ben with a beady eye. “Hands off, Amatus. Those are mine.” He helped himself to a generous serving of the roast ram and smiled again at Saoirse.

“Glad to see you out of your room, and looking so fabulous, sister.” He raised one elegant eyebrow at the sight of her wearing his shirt. Saoirse blushed.

“Well… I couldn’t stand wearing those dresses anymore and the material feels so soft…. And it had been under your bed for a week…. I didn’t think you’d mind so much.” She stammered, though the look she gave him was decidedly cheeky. He looked down at his plate, a smirk on his lips before replying.

“Of course, my wardrobe is your wardrobe, my dear. Though, maybe I will help you organise your own when we return, yes?”

The conversation turned back to Varric’s books and Saoirse finally felt comfortable enough to start eating her own food, giggling softly at some of Varric and Dorian’s more ribald teasing of her brother, who took it with easy amusement. She was contemplating an answer to one of Varric’s question when someone stopped next to the last remaining chair, and she turned to look at them and was instantly enraptured. Ben, noticing her lack of response looked up and smiled in welcome, gesturing towards the free chair.

“Blackwall! I was worried you wouldn’t make it. Sit, sit!” Blackwall slid into the seat, strangely silent for someone so large. “Seerie, this is Blackwall. Blackwall, this is my sister, Saoirse. Your companion for the next few weeks.”

Saoirse felt a blush rise in her cheeks as she looked at the man across from her. He was dressed in a white linen shirt, which was tucked into brown leather breeches. His dual forked beard was neatly trimmed, and his hair tied back in a haphazard bun at the back of his head. His steel grey eyes stared back at her and she noticed a red flushing over his cheekbone as they stared at one another.

“Good evening, Ser.” She spoke quietly, quite overwhelmed by the cascade of thoughts and feelings that crashed through her as she looked at him. He was older than she and Ben, the hair at his temples held a few strands of grey, though it had yet to form in his beard. She could tell he was immensely strong, but there was also a softness to his waist, which she found quite appealing. She leaned back in her chair, shocked at the sudden turn in her thoughts, and the way her own marked palm tingled. Then he spoke. His voice was a dark rumble that, settled into her soul and claimed it for its own.

“Good evening, my Lady.” He gave her a small smile and nodded his head, his eyes sliding over her face and then over her hair and then down to the palm she was now clenching.

“I told Seerie, that you would be available to escort her wherever she wishes to go, whilst Dorian, Bull, Varric and I are away in the Emerald Graves. If that is still okay with you, Blackwall?” Ben spoke, though clearly distracted by his attempts to sneak one of Dorian’s tarts, and not paying any attention to either Blackwall or Saoirse. Dorian and Varric were however, and shared an astounded, raised eyebrowed look.

“It would be my pleasure, Inquisitor.” Blackwall rumbled, once again nodding his head at Saoirse. “If the lady, has no problem with that, of course.”

Saoirse floundered a bit but answered honestly. “No… I don’t have a problem with that… though you may find this duty boring.”

“I sincerely doubt that, my lady.” He answered and smiled at her again, bringing his right hand up to the table and clenching it similarly to her, trying to discretely show her that he was marked, just like her.

Saoirse’s saw the understate movement and the quick flash or the golden mark on his palm and her mind began to race, and panic started to well inside her, so she abruptly stood and muttered a quick goodnight to the table and left the room in a hurry. All four men watched her depart, astonished.

“Did I do something to offend?” Blackwall asked, confounded. Ben sighed, giving up on the tart and turned to face the older man.

“No. This won’t be easy for you, Blackwall. She is scared and hurt. And doesn’t know who she can trust beyond Dorian and me. This was the first time she has eaten here in the hall and out of her room. Just have patience with her… Show her you are a man worthy of trust. Help her. She doesn’t realise it now, but she will need your support in the weeks to come.”

Ben looked at his friend keenly, hoping he was getting the message.

Blackwall nodded. “I’ll protect her with my life.”

Ben just nodded, completely missing the undertone to Blackwall’s words. Dorian didn’t however and raised an eyebrow at him. Blackwall returned the look calmly, before standing.

“I will return to the stables. At what time should I present myself to Lady Trevelyan?”

Ben chirped happily when he noticed that Saoirse had left both her tarts, and snatched them up, and then felt Dorian’s elbow sharp to his ribs.

“Wha?” He looked at his love.

“Blackwall asked you a question, Amatus. If you weren’t so intent on tarts you would have noticed.”

Blackwall looked bemusedly at the Inquisitor, giving him a wry smile.

“Oh... sorry Blackwall. What did you ask me?” He gave Blackwall his most disarming smile and Blackwall chuffed out a laugh.

“I asked what time I should present myself to the lady tomorrow morning?”

“Oh… well… 8th bell? We are setting off about then, and she may want to come out to see us off.”

“Fine. That’s fine. Is there anywhere I shouldn’t let her go?”

“Keep her out of the barracks for now. But mostly be guided by her. She may not even ask to leave her room. However, if you have the opportunity, encourage her, but have a care. She may frighten easily.”

Blackwall nodded, and left the hall. Dorian and Varric looked at each other again and then at Ben, who had just taken a large bite of one of the tarts.

“What?!” He said through his mouthful.

“Never mind, Amatus. You’ll find out. I am sure.” Dorian smiled at him, even though internally her shook his head. Sometimes, just sometimes, the glorious man in beside of him could be so… clueless.


	10. Chapter 10

Blackwall paced the battlements above the stables, his mind racing.

This was unexpected. His heart lurched. He’d never expected to find this.

 _After all I have done, or haven’t done, to somehow deserve this?!_ He thought desperately. He stopped and pressed his head against one of the larger stone blocks and allowed himself to smile. She was Maker sent. He tilted his head slightly and looked down at the pale golden circles imprinted in his palm in wonderment.

He’d been in the hall two weeks previous when the Inquisitor had appeared from the gardens carrying a slight figure in his arms. Her eyes had been closed, her neck visibly showing purplish bruises. His appearing holding a woman at all had silenced all the people in the room and as soon as he disappeared into his chambers had set them all whispering. The talking had stopped again when Dorian had swept into the hall, sending a servant running for Solas and jumping a little when the spirit boy, Cole had appeared at his side.

Blackwall had only vaguely paid attention to what was happening around his, his attention suddenly caught by the stabbing pain in his palm and the sudden appearance of the golden circles on his palm. He stared at them in wonder then slid his eyes over to the closed door to the Inquisitor’s apartments.

“Oh, stop it, you bunch of gossipmongers. You’ll find out who she is when the Inquisitor is good and ready. For now, just eat your food and swill your ale. This is nothing to do with you.” Then he, Solas and Cole had disappeared into the Inquisitor’s apartments, the door firmly slamming behind them.

Blackwall had stared at the door for a while, trying to push down the urgent need to follow them and protect the woman held close to Ben’s chest. Not that he would have been able to do more than glare menacingly at the moment, given the foolish shoulder wound he’d received the morning the blizzard had started. He’d continued to stare at the door contemplatively, before he had returned to the room Josephine had insisted he take, at least whilst her was injured and whilst Skyhold was being held hostage by the elements.

Now, here he was, pacing on the battlements near midnight his mind whirling. Not sure what he was supposed to do or how to proceed. She obviously knew he had a mark just like she did but had not reacted the way he had assumed she would on finding her soul mate. There was obviously something he didn’t know.

“Lost, disbelieving, scared, amazed and deserving.” Cole’s quiet voice spoke behind him. “You are hurting, but not for long. She is hurting and terrified, but you will help her. Slowly though. Take her to see the murals.”

Blackwall spun around to talk to the spirit boy, and saw nothing there, then jumped when he appeared, standing carelessly on the stone Blackwall had just been resting his head against.

“She likes flowers. All kinds of flowers. But especially the yellow ones Mother Giselle is hiding under the glass. You should take her one.” Cole disappeared again and reappeared by the stairs. “Her spirits won’t let me help her yet. But they will let you.” Then he was gone.

Blackwall leaned against the parapet and closed his eyes. In days past he wouldn’t have needed help from a spirit to woo a woman. Then again, he’d only wooed them with one intention before, and Saoirse deserved far more than that. He smiled again and thought of her. Thick black hair pulled over her shoulder in a braid. Cheeks were still a little hollow, but they had held a rosy blush when she’d looked at him. Beautiful, clear blue eyes that looked like they’d seem more of life than she wanted, yet still held innocence and curiosity along with a large amount of fear. He was also fascinated by that beauty mark above her lip… he desperately wanted to kiss it.

Shaking his head, he walked down the stairs towards the lower courtyard and his loft.

_All in good time. Patience is a virtue, and I can be a very patient man._


	11. Chapter 11

The morning dawned clear the next day, and Blackwall found himself leaning against the guard tower wall watching Ben and Dorian fuss over their mounts, and Varric and Bull try to one up each other with outrageous tales. Saoirse stood quietly beside Dorian, who was holding her hand and talking to her softly whilst straightening his saddlebags. She was looking around everywhere and at everyone one, and it was clear that she was more than a little overwhelmed.

He pushed off the wall and walked towards the group once it was clear that Ben and Dorian were about to mount up and leave. She was clinging to the two men, and even at this distance he could see how white her knuckles were. Both men wrapped their arms around her and whispered to her urgently and she was nodding, though somewhat reluctantly. Ben saw him approaching out of the corner of his eye and turned with her to see his final approach.

“Ah Blackwall, as punctual as always.” Saoirse blushed as she looked at him, but quickly looked down at her booted feet and wrung her fingers in front of her.

“Good morning, Inquisitor, Dorian… my lady.” He bowed to the three of them and gave her a small smile when she peeked up at him through her bangs.

“Now that you are here, we must be off.” Ben paused speaking and guided his sister over to stand beside Blackwall and bent to kiss her on the cheek. “Remember Seerie, write to me, to us, whenever you want. Leliana has ravens and won’t mind in the least if you send them all out every day. We’ll be back before you know it.” He was clearly nervous about leaving her and looked around the hold and its occupants with concern.

Saoirse shook her head and gave him a small smile. “Go Ben. I’ll be fine. I’ll just keep to the library and my room. Please don’t worry about me.” Her voice was soft and hesitant in the face of the large group of people who had gathered to see the Inquisitor off. “I am not entirely defenceless you know. Especially now I am not so exhausted all the time.” Ben still seemed undecided about going, and it really highlighted for Blackwall how strongly he felt for his sister, when the usually decisive and hardworking man, really wanted to put work aside and stay by her side.

Dorian stepped in at that moment and opened his arms wide giving Saoirse a huge smile. “Hug me, sister. We won’t be gone long enough for you to miss us!” She smirked at him and wrapped her arms around his waist before standing back and watching them both mount up. They moved towards the castle gates and out across the bridge to the mountain path. Ben turned to look at her one last time, and raised his hand in farewell, which she returned. As soon as he disappeared, Blackwall saw her shoulders slump slightly and she returned her gaze to her boots.

“Well, my lady… what is your wish?” He asked gently, coming to stand beside her, his back to the still gathered curious crowd, trying to protect her from their gaze. She jumped a little at the sound of his voice and once again looked at him through her bangs.

“I’d like to go to the library, please.” Her quiet voice reached his ears and he smiled gently.

“As you wish.” He gestured towards the closest tower wall. “If we go this way, you won’t have to talk through the main courtyard. It takes a bit longer though.”

She looked at him properly this time and gave him a tentative smile. “Thank you… all these people are… quite overwhelming.” He bowed to her again and they moved towards the stairs up towards the battlements. She kept silent as she moved, stopping occasionally to look at the view over the Frostbacks and the river below. When they stopped before Cullen’s door, Blackwall gently asked her to stop.

“One moment, my lady. I will just check to make sure the room beyond is not full of scouts. Would you mind waiting here for a moment?” At her nod, he knocked briefly on the door and entered the room.

Commander Cullen Rutherford stood on one side of his desk, and the elven mage Cyra Lavellan stood on the other, both of them blushing furiously. Cullen coughed and looked at Blackwall.

“Yes, Blackwall?” His tone was formal, though it no longer held the hostility it had had a previously.

“Lady Trevelyan wishes to know if it is okay to pass through here on the way to the library. There are too many onlookers in the courtyard. I just wanted to make sure the room wasn’t full of scouts awaiting orders.” He explained.

“Of course! Please show her through.” Cullen nodded his head and Blackwall returned to the door he’d entered through and opened it for her.

“The coast is clear, my lady. There is only the good Commander and his lady friend here at present.” She peeked through the door, swallowed and stepped into the room, giving the other two a tentative smile.

“Oh! You are just lovely! I am Cyra Lavellan.” Saoirse blinked when the friendly elf approached her with a welcoming smile.

“Thank you…. You as well… your vallaslin is remarkable. Please, uh… call me Saoirse.” Saoirse smiled at her, slowly twisting her fingers around each other nervously. She looked towards Cullen and took a small step towards Blackwell when bowed to her, a movement that everyone else in the room saw, but didn’t remark on.

“Lady Trevelyan. Please to make your acquaintance.” The elf moved back to stand beside him and twined her fingers with his. From behind him there came a plaintive wuff and then movement. Moments later a large mabari hound moved from behind Cullen’s legs and ambled across the room and sat in front of Saoirse, its head cocked to the side as it considered her. Shortly after, a much smaller and younfer version of the dog moved to sit beside them, its tongue hanging out in a doggy grin.

“Ah! You rate! Those lazy buggers rarely get up to greet anyone.” Blackwall grinned and reached down to scratch the larger one behind the ears. Cullen laughed, and it was a rich, warm sound.

“That much is true. This is Cookie and er….” He rubbed the back of his neck.

“Son of Cookie.” The Elf interjected.

“Well, yes. He’s last one left of her most recent litter, and I don’t think it’s right that I name him. It’s up to whomever he chooses.” Cullen explained. Saoirse nodded, her Father had had a few mabari in the kennels when she was younger, and she had been fascinated. She reached down and scratched the puppy on the chin and giggled softly when he immediately flopped on his back and bared his stomach to her. She crouched down and muttered nonsense words to him and lightly scratched his belly, whilst he squirmed and wriggled, madly trying to wag his stubby little tail.

“Well.” Cullen said. “That’s that then.” Saoirse looked up at him, too enraptured with the puppy to remain cautious.

“What’s what?” She asked, smiling down at him when the dog licked at her fingers.

“He’s chosen you. He’s yours now.” She looked at him in surprise.

“Just like that?” Cullen nodded and smiled gently at her.

“Just like that.”

“Oh.” She smiled and then looked at Blackwall. “Do you think Ben will be mad?” Blackwall shook his head.

“I doubt it, my lady. Jealous more like. He’d really hoped that one from this litter would imprint on him.”

“Ahhh.” She paused. “Okay.” She smiled widely at Cookie. “Is this okay with you?” She asked.

The large female mabari looked her up and down and sniffed at her for a moment before giving a nod of her head and moving to sit next to Cullen, who reached down and gently stroked her large head.

“If you bring him back a few hours each day, with a piece of your clothing, I can continue training him if you like? He still has a lot more to learn.” She nodded and smiled down at still rolling puppy.

“Of course, learning is important. Speaking of which…” She looked up at Blackwall. “The library, ser?”

“Oh! Yes! This way, my Lady.” He moved to the door opposite Cullen’s desk and opened it, checking to make sure the coast was clear. Saoirse began moving towards it, with the puppy walking calmly beside her, when she stopped just before the threshold and looked again at Cookie.

“Thank you, Cookie. I promise to care for him well.” She looked at Cullen. “And thank you too. This means more that I can say.” Cullen smiled at her, and she stepped through the door. Blackwall smiled at them both and followed, quietly closing the door after himself.

“If we go through that door, then to the right and up some stairs, we’ll be in the library.”

Saoirse nodded and walked slowly along the walkway, giggling as the puppy jumped around her feet and tried to chew on the buckle on one of her new boots. Blackwall smirked to himself, secretly enjoying the antics in front of him.

“With some extra training, he’ll be a good companion for you.” He commented as they reached the rotunda door. “He’ll keep away those you don’t want to hang around.”

Saoirse gave him a shy smile. “That thought had occurred to me, to be honest.” Blackwell felt his heart leap at the smile and gave her one in return, before opening the door they were standing in front of.

“After you… my lady.”


	12. Chapter 12

In all honesty, Blackwall had forgotten about the murals that Solas had been painting on the ground floor of the rotunda. His crafting interests lay more in wood carving and metal work, though previous to his trial he had talked to the odd elf about how to make the eyes on his carving more life like and realistic with paints.

Saoirse however ground to an instant halt when she entered the room and clapped her hands to her mouth, squeaking in wonderment.

“They are beautiful!” she breathed and headed to the nearest wall, lightly touching the image of a wolf with gentle fingers. “Are these elven, Blackwall?”

“Um…. I don’t rightly know… but their creator is. So, I assume so.”

“Oh…. How wonderful these are. I saw pictures in a book once, but never thought I’d get a chance to see something like this as it was being created.”

“They are the story of the Inquisitor, da’len” Came a quiet voice from behind her, and Blackwall watched, astonished as Saoirse suddenly flared gold in fright, before turning and looking at the slender man behind her. Solas, didn’t react to the flare of power she had given off, instead he just smiled benignly at her, wiping paint coloured fingers on a rag.

“I was just starting to paint the top part of the piece by the stairs if you’d like to climb the scaffold to see?” She nodded excitedly and looked down at the puppy, who was still trying to chew on the buckle on her boot.

“Stay here with Blackwall, pup. I’ll be right back.” And then quickly climbed the ladder to the top of the scaffolding.

“Who do we have here?” Solas asked, eyeing the puppy who had now moved to sit on Blackwall’s boot, watching his person carefully, whilst she was out of his reach.

“This is… well, he doesn’t have a name yet. It’s the last of Cookie’s litter. He decided Lady Trevelyan was his person about 15 minutes ago.”

“Ahhh, I see.”

“His name is Finn.” Came the voice near the top of the wall.

“Oh? Did you just decide that, da’len?” Solas asked curiously.

“No. He told Shafyaa, and Shafyaa told me.” She answered as if that was a perfectly reasonable thing to say. “Shafyaa told me that soon he’ll be able to speak to me directly. It will just take a few more days for the imprinting to be completed.”

Blackwall raised an eyebrow at her casual tone and looked at Solas. Solas shook his head and held out a finger indicating that he’d like Blackwall to wait a moment.

“And who is Shafyaa?”

“She’s my guardian, she protects me. Or tries to. I haven’t been strong enough for her to do much for a long time. It takes a lot out of both of us.” Her voice was still distracted as she moved on to closely inspecting another mural.

“Do you paint directly onto the fresh plaster, Ser?” She asked picking up a small pot of red powder.

“Yes… I use water to help the dry pigment to merge with the newly laid plaster.”

“Interesting. I’ve only ever used pencils and some paints to create pictures. But it has been a long time since I have done so.”

She moved to sit on the edge of the scaffolding and looked down at him, gracing him with a smile. Blackwall felt a momentary pang of jealousy before remembering that even though she had yet to verbally acknowledge the mating marks, she knew what they meant. He decided to introduce them again, because it was clear that Saoirse had no memory of the mage standing below her.

“Lady Trevelyan, this is Solas. Solas, you remember the Inquisitor’s sister I hope?”

“Indeed, I do. I believe I met your Shafyaa the first night you arrived, da’len. She very politely asked me to leave your head.”

“Well, that explains her muttering when I woke up. What were you looking for in there?”

“Queen Eleanor had seen you use some extremely powerful magic whilst you assisted her with birth of her children, and the Inquisitor saw you fix your arm in the vision he had of you. Plus, he mentioned the dreams you both shared as children. We wanted to make sure we had the right wards and protections in place for you. It turned out to be unnecessary, however. Your spirits protect you well, when you wander the fade.” Solas nodded to her.

“Hmmm… well for future reference, please ask my permission before you try to look in my head. It’s only manners. But I understand where you were coming from, so I am not upset. This time.” Blackwall admired the little show of spunk she showed to the mage, recognising it as a true part of her personality, an aspect she’d rarely had a chance to use before.

“Of course, da’len.” Solas gave her a small smile. Then he turned to his desk and picked up a paper tablet and a drawing pencil. “I would make a gift of these. Maybe you can find something to drawn here in Skyhold, in between reading of course.” Saoirse smiled again and climbed down the ladder, before reaching out to take the items.

“Thank you, Solas. This is most appreciated.” She paused. “May I come back and watch you paint another time?” She sounded nervous and looked anxiously from Blackwall to Solas and back again.

“If you wish, Lethallan. I would welcome company, should you choose to provide it.” Solas bowed to her and moved back to the desk again, clearly dismissing them both. Blackwall didn’t mind. In all honesty, he found Solas to be odd and he could well recognise a liar, but for now, he seemed to be no threat.

“To the library then, my lady?” He asked.

“Yes. Thank you, Ser.”

“Blackwall. Please call me Blackwall.” He answered, a touch nervously as the name still felt new to him, but he wanted to falsehoods to ever be between them.

“Only if you call me Saoirse.” She responded as she began to climb the stairs.

“I can do that, my lady.” He answered, and grinned when she looked back down at him and rolled her eyes.

***

_Dear Ben and Dorian,_

_You’ve only been gone a few days, but I miss the both of you. Blackwall is keeping me company, though he must get bored with my daily routine of great hall, library, rotunda and training grounds. He doesn’t complain though. Solas has been showing me how to draw in a more lifelike manner, and Blackwall just sits quietly in a corner with Finn and carves small animals and people out of blocks of wood. Did you know he did that? He’s promised to show me his carved griffin tomorrow down in the stables._

_Oh, you must be wondering who Finn is? The hour after you left, Blackwall was sneaking me through Commander Rutherford’s office to avoid the crowds in the courtyard, and his Mabari’s last baby decided I was his. I hope you don’t mind, Ben? He is all legs and big feet right now, and he goes to train with his mother and siblings every afternoon. I’ve also been teaching him how to fetch. Though, he seems more interested in fetching the soldiers training swords, than fetching the stick I’ve thrown._

_Please write soon and tell me you are well,_

_Seerie._

_Dearest Seerie,_

_We were both delighted to have a letter waiting for us at the first inquisition camp in the Emerald Graves, and even more pleased that it sounds like you are not hiding away like a princess in a tower. Dorian is complaining as usual, but I think we are both enjoying the fact that there is no snow here and it is actually pleasantly warm. The Iron Bull is excited because we saw a dragon fly overhead this morning, and he wants to go a test his mettle against it. He’s so childlike in his enthusiasm, that I believe that I will indulge him._

_So far, we have rescued some locals from being locked up in a mine, closed two rifts and discovered an ancient elven ruin. I’ve sent word to Cullen and I am hoping we’ll be able to co-ordinate with the elves nearby to help them search them for anything of historical value to them. We have a meeting set up in the morning to speak to the local leader, Fairbanks and then we are going to see what we can do to rein in the amount of red templars in the area. Hopefully there will be some clues as to where they are getting their red lyrium supplies, which will bring us one step closer to bringing down Corypheus._

_As for Finn… congratulations, Leannan. It is a gift to be chosen by a mabari, and obvious he felt you were worthy. However, spare no thought for me or my liver as I sit over here and chew on it in jealousy. Maybe I will get lucky next time, if Cullen ever decides to breed Cookie again._

_Dorian say to tell you that he loves you, and that he misses you. And also, that he is not complaining, he is just being creatively critical. Hopefully we will be home soon._

_Your brother,_

_Ben_


	13. Chapter 13

Saoirse felt comfortable enough to walk out into the great hall with Finn by her side that morning. For the last week she had waited for Blackwall to accompany her, but she felt it was time to gain a little more of her own independence. Though, she was honest enough to know she wouldn’t have dared without Finn by her side. As she excited the door she shared with Ben’s apartments, she felt every eye turn to her. She drew in a shaky breath and then saw both Cullen and Cyra sitting and talking as they breakfasted. She approached them cautiously and nervously spoke.

“Good morning… may I sit with you?” She wasn’t sure what she expected, but it wasn’t the big smiles or Cyra getting up and pulling the chair next to her out. She smiled and sat down, though still gazing around the hall to make sure she was safe.

“… Saoirse?” She jumped a little when she heard her name mention and she looked guiltily at Cyra.

“I am sorry! In a world of my own. What did you ask me?”

Cyra giggled. “Cullen asked you if you would like him to get you something from the buffet, he’s going back up for some more.”

“Oh… um…. Yes please. One of the raspberry muffins and some bacon, please?”

A warm voice broke over the group and Saoirse smiled in spite of herself.

“Never mind, Commander. I already have Lady Trevelyan’s breakfast.” Blackwall smiled at her, and carefully placed the plate in front of her, along with a tankard of fruit juice before sitting across from her. “Dig in, your ladyship.” He gestured to the piled plate and she raised an eyebrow at him.

“Really, ser? Are you trying to turn me into a ball on legs?” She was feeling particularly sassy this morning, proud of her first solo foray into the Great Hall.

Blackwall paused and grinned. “Maybe.” He gestured at her plate again and started eating his own. Within minutes all four of them at the table were engaged in conversation, and Saoirse was fascinated by the amount of work Cullen seemed to do in one day. As she drained the last of her drink, she leaned forward and gently touched his hand.

“Thank you for protecting Ben. Just… thank you.” She hoped her smile reflected the sincerity that she felt. Cullen’s face flushed bright red and he stammered a bit. “I didn’t say it to embarrass you, I just think that people need to know when they are appreciated.” She looked down at her plate, and then reached over and stole a piece of Blackwall’s bacon from his plate.

“My lady! You have your own bacon!” He stuttered, both shocked at her audacity and amused. Sera wandered past, short hair at multiple angles and gave a tired giggle.

“Oh, shut it, Beardy. Everyone knows stolen food tastes better.” Saoirse giggled and continued eating her stolen treat. Sera gave her a grin and kept walking to the food tables.

“Cullen, I was wondering. I am going to be spending some time with Solas this afternoon, he wants to see if I have any other magical talents – like fire or lightening. Could you bring Finn back at around supper time?” She smiled at the still blushing man but was grateful when he just nodded and smiled shyly, tucking his arm underneath Cyra’s.

“Of course. I’ll give him a bit of extra training…. I hope I am not speaking out of turn, but Cookie has some training that I’ve never passed on to any of her other pups. She helps me, with some issues I’ve had since Kirkwall… and even though I don’t know what you went through, I can see the anxiety. I can show him how?” He offered.

Saoirse considered his offer, and looked at Blackwall, who nodded at her.

“Yes please. I’d appreciate it.” Pushing her plate away, she stood. “If you all will excuse me for a moment, I would like to get my drawing kit before I go outside.” She gestured to Finn to stay beside Blackwall and walked across the hall to her door, not realising that three pairs of eyes were watching her departure.

Cyra leant forward and touched Blackwall’s hand lightly. “Has she said anything at all? About any of this?”

Blackwall sat back in his chair and shook his head. “No, I can see her thinking about it, but she never says anything. She doesn’t pull away when people try to talk to her, but you can see she’s trying to decide if they mean what they say or if there is some hidden agenda.” He growled, frustrated. “My instinct says to push her a little, but considering she came out here on her own this morning, I don’t that she’s ready.” He rested his hands on the table and unconsciously rubbed his index finger over the mark on his palm. Cyra saw it and grabbed his hand to look closer.

“Oh. Oh, this must be so hard on you!” She let go of his hand and turned sad eyes to Cullen. “Blackwall has the matching mark, Vhenan.”

Cullen looked hard at him, eyes searching Blackwall’s.

“Does she know? What this means?”

“I think so. She’s seen it with the Inquisitor and Dorian. I just don’t think she’s ready to accept it or me as yet.” Blackwall closed his hand and moved it to rest on his thigh when he saw the door open again and stood.

“Ready to go, Maiden Fair?” He asked whimsically.

She gave him a wide smile, and cocked out her right elbow, gesturing him to take it in his own.

“Yes, Brave Ser Knight. Off to the gardens!” She pointed. “See ya, Cyra… Cullen.” She smiled at the both and began to walk towards the exit.

Cyra looked at her mate mark and then back at her Commander. He reached over and stroked her cheek with his thumb.

“Love, just a week ago, she wasn’t letting him touch her at all. Sometimes, things have to happen in their own time. Besides, if it came too easy, Blackwall would worry that he wasn’t worthy.”

Cyra hummed softly. “I supposed. I am glad that ours came so easy though.” She leant forward and softly kissed him. “Now, I have a room of mini mages to teach and you have some trainees to wrangle… I’ll bring you lunch at noon.” She smiled suggestively at him and swept out of the room. Cullen just grinned.


	14. Chapter 14

Blackwall settled back against the tree and pulled out his witting knife and a short piece of wood. Saoirse was sitting about half a metre away, with her drawing pad and pencil hunch over whatever it was she was drawing. Over the last two days she’d been sitting closer and had started asking him questions about what he was working on and about the skills involved. He answered her honestly, and eventually they started sharing things about their lives, though Saoirse only spoke about her childhood. Mostly information about her siblings and her mother. She seemed to avoid the topic of her father completely, which Blackwall found telling.

Looking up from his latest carving he saw Mother Giselle out of the corner of his eye and remembered what Cole had told him a short while ago.

“I will be right back, my Lady. I must speak to the revered mother for a moment. I will not be far, and not out of sight at all.” He gestured to Mother Giselle and got to his feet.

“Well… don’t be long, Brave Ser Knight, or I fear I may waste away to nothing in your absence.” She smirked at him.

“Ha ha, Lady Trevelyan. Smart arse.” He heard her stifle a giggle as he stepped away, carefully making sure that there was no one around who looked like they’d approach her in the few minutes he was away. He walked over to the religious woman and bowed.

“Good morning, Mother Giselle. I was wondering if I could have a moment of your time?” She put down the book she had been reading and turned to smile at him, if a little distantly.

“Ser Blackwall, how can I be of assistance this morning?” Her voice was pleasant enough, but there was a slight note of disapproval underlying it.

“The Lady Trevelyan loves daffodils, and I was wondering whether I can give her one. For her to draw, of course.” Giselle raised an eyebrow at him.

“She only has to move over here to draw them, good ser.”

“I know, but I’d like to give it to her as a gift. It could also brighten her chambers, if she was of a mind too.” He smiled politely.

Giselle looked at him through half closed eyes, and then shrugged her shoulders. “Of course. Please help yourself.” She gestured towards the small patch of brightly yellow flowers. “Though, I think you should hurry, Marquis du Chanon of Lydes seems to have taken an interest in her Ladyship.” Blackwall turned his head around to look towards Saoirse. She still had her head down over her drawing pad, and had her tongue out slightly as she concentrated, unaware that the young Lordling was moving towards her with a determined look.

He gave Mother Giselle a grateful look, and quickly cut three beautiful yellow blooms before walking towards his mate, who had now ignored the florid bow of the lord and continued drawing, though he could see a frown marring her forehead. The lordling, obviously unused to being ignored decided that she would pay him the proper attention if he took her drawing pad, to use it as a way to get her undivided attention and made to grab it. Blackwall started to move forward faster, a loud shout on his lips when he saw the shimmering golden shield flare around her. The young man stepped back fast and shook his hand as if he had been shocked. Saoirse stood gracefully and turned to face the man properly.

“One would think that nobles of your calibre would understand that if I person doesn’t respond to greetings, then they do not wish to be greeted, especially in that manner. Now, since you asked, I am Lady Saoirse Trevelyan, twin sister to Lord Benjamin Trevelyan, the Inquisitor and daughter of the Bann of Ostwick. I also happen to have a soul match, Ser. So, bother me no longer.” She fluttered her fingers at him in a dismissive gesture and flashed the mark on her palm at him. Blackwall bit back a gasp and his cheeks reddened at her overt display of their connection, and then smiled as she turned her back on the mumbling lordling and turned to face him.

“Blackwall! Are those for me? I love daffodils!” She rushed towards him and took the blooms from his hastily held out hand, completely dismissing the other man. He was still speechless, and just nodded his head, looking at her in wonder.

“Oh, they smell divine! Thank you!” She buried her nose in the blooms and breathed deeply. “I haven’t seen these since I was a girl.” She smiled widely and looked up at him and noticed him just standing stock still, a light blush on his cheeks. “Blackwall?” Nervousness entered her tone, and he shook himself out of his own head.

“I… um… what you just said…” He stumbled over the words.

“About the flowers?”

“No… about the mate mark.”

“Oh.” Her face flushed a dark red and she looked down at Finn, who was rolling over their boots in doggy gleeful abandonment. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said anything… I mean we haven’t talked about it and I can understand why you probably wouldn’t want to acknowle – umph!”

Blackwall didn’t hesitate. He held both of her cheeks and leaned down to kiss her, covering her mouth in a searing kiss, hoping he was conveying everything he felt for her in this first touch of his lips against hers.

There was a cough from behind him and he slowly pulled his lips away from hers, opening his eyes and keeping them locked to hers. She was looking at him in astonishment, but her full lips had a slight upwards tilt to the corners.

“Well… that was a shock.” She murmured. He muffled a small laugh, then reached out his palm to cup her cheek.

“My lady…” He put a strong emphasis on the word my. “Never think I wouldn’t acknowledge you as my mate. I want to show everyone. But I didn’t think you were ready for that as yet.” He stroked her cheek softly with his thumbs, loving the feel of her soft skin under them. She leaned her cheek into his right hand and smile up at him.

“Maybe, I am still not… everything is so complicated. Except this. I am not denying this, or you… but aside from hand holding, hugs or a few kisses… I am not ready to be more yet.” She looked down, a flush coming across her cheeks, embarrassed.

“We will go at your pace. Never fear. I am just glad I don’t have to hide what I feel around you anymore.” He moved forward and kissed the end of her nose and rested his forehead against hers. “We have a lot to talk about, and that time is coming. But for now, we will just take each day as it comes, okay?”

“Okay.” She whispered, and smiled at him, before walking forward into his arms and resting her head against his chest. He carefully wrapped his arms around her waist and shoulders and put his head on the top of hers. After a moment, she wrapped her arms around his waist and just sighed softly. She smelt of parchment paper, lavender, and a little like the air before rain began to fall. He breathed her in deep. Committing the smell of her to memory. He loved the feeling of her in his arms. She felt small and fragile, and so soft. He didn’t dare move his hands from their safe positions, just gripped her a little harder for a moment and then stepped away, pressing another light kiss to her lips.

“There! That’ll do me for a while.” He smiled widely at her as her cheeks flushed. Then she grinned.

“I guess you better start calling me Saoirse then, or Seerie, if you prefer.” She offered. He reached down and grasped her smaller palm in his own and tangled their fingers together.

“You could call me Thom.” He offered a little awkwardly, still unused to the name. She smiled widely and swung their hands back and forth.

“Thom it is.” He squeezed her hand and then started walking towards the great hall.

“Lunch time, Lady Fair.”

“Of course, Ser Knight. Lead on!”

Behind them, Mother Giselle smiled slightly.


	15. Chapter 15

The next few days were wonderful for both of them. Thom would arrive in the early hours, knowing that she was an early riser and escort her to breakfast, his hand firmly in hers. After breakfast he would accompany her for a walk around the walls or to draw in the gardens, snuggling her against his side as she drew. There were many kisses, light and soft and both of them didn’t feel the need to fill the silence around them with a lot of discussion. When she spent her afternoons with Solas, training with her spirits or learning the rudiments of painting, he would train in the yard with the Commander and the recruits, slowly trying to get his shoulder into good working order.

He also helped with Finn’s more interesting training. It had taken a few days, but Cullen had pointed out that Finn had also imprinted on him, and definitely responded better to him than he did to the Commander. It made him smile when the puppy gave him a wide goofy smile, his tongue lolling out, or how he responded to his sharp calls to attention or instruction. He and Saoirse then spent a little time together before dinner going over Finn’s training together, so they could learn everything together. Finn wasn’t quite old enough to guard Saoirse on his own as yet, but the day was coming fast.

Saoirse was enjoying her new sense of freedom. For years she had been stuck in a room or small set of rooms, completely at the whim of her father and then of both her father and husband. Though honestly, they had ignored her unless they needed something from her, or either of them had been drinking. It was only because her father was feeling his age that he’d deemed that Saoirse was to travel to Denerim with his party, much to the disgust of her husband who truly felt that outside her barely working healing abilities, there was not much use to her.

He hadn’t taken his husbandly rights in over three years, preferring other women over her. He did however, like to keep her cowled and under his control, repeatedly telling her all her perceived flaws, or denying her food and water, or beating her for any imagined slight. For the last three years, he’d beaten her because she’d failed as a wife; she’d had the audacity to bare him a daughter, rather than a son to continue on his family name. For the first two years of Brianna’s life, Saoirse had managed to keep her out of sight when her husband visited the compound her father kept her in. It wasn’t hard, as he usually brought his own entourage and entertainment. But, that fateful night, Brianna had become unwell and had cried, disturbing du Maurier from his assorted entertainments.

The following morning, he had burst through the door before the dawn’s light and had pulled Brianna from her mother’s arms and disappeared from the keep. Returning only when he heard that Saoirse was refusing to eat or drink. He had forced the servants to feed her, telling her that the child was still alive, but in a chantry orphanage. Saoirse had been so broken down at this point, that she had believed him when he said that it was only until she was better. But days turned into weeks and weeks into months and her wee Brianna was not returned to her arms. She couldn’t even be sure that the man had sent her to the chantry in Ostwick. He’d lied about everything else. It was late one night, when she felt the lowest, when Shafyaa had finally spoken to her directly. Explaining that the little one was alive and being watched over. That Saoirse just needed to have faith and she would be returned.

It was hard having so little faith in life and the people surrounding her. She knew she could trust Ben and Dorian and was learning to trust Thom as well. But she always wondered if there was something else they wanted from her. Like everyone else wanted. She knew that that belief wasn’t fair. She knew when she worked with Solas, for example, that he was curious about her spirits and her connection to them through the fade. They’d worked out an agreement however, he taught her art and the finer mechanics of healing, and her would allow him to speak to Karim or Jana, who were spirits of compassion and knowledge respectively. Shafyaa refused to speak with the mage, just saying that he had too much pride to listen to what she had to say. Shafyaa approved of Thom. In the dark of the night she had told Saoirse of his past, and the reasons behind it. It had been hard for Saoirse to understand for a while, as she could not see her Thom as being someone who would murder an entire money for gold. But, in the conversation, she had come to understand. When she looked at him now, she could see how hard he tried, the care he took of her and others, and that he was a good man.

He had informed her that morning that the healer had cleared him to return to duty when the Inquisitor returned, and she was honestly undecided how she felt about it. She’d gotten used to his calm presence with her, the sound of the whittling knife against would, the feel of his hand in hers, and his beard rubbing against her neck, just to hear her giggle. She felt like she was blinding him to the extent of their relationship, by not telling him, or anyone about her life, her experiences and most importantly, her Brianna. She’d been freed from her father and soon to be ex-husband’s clutches for over a month now. To her it felt ages, yet not enough time to move away from the damaged they had caused in her life.

She leaned against the wall of the walkway leading to Cullen’s apartments and watched Thom and Cullen train with the newest recruits and grinned when Thom roared at one that he wasn’t much use if he didn’t hold up his shield and got his head knocked off. Cookie, Finn and the other pups were training with a group of more experienced Inquisition members, learning about where and how to bite and also giving them experience in combat with dogs. Solas had had to leave their training lesson quite suddenly when one of the mage healers had rushed in, asking for help with a labouring woman in the Skyhold village. Apparently, they were full of elemental mages, but running low on healing ones. Solas had taken one look at her and shook his head.

“Da’len, I know that look. You are not ready to help in the village yet. Next time, when you are fully recovered.” And then he had swept from the room. Saoirse found that a little condescending to be honest. She’d helped the Queen of Fereldan give birth to twins when she’d be completely and utterly exhausted. And whilst, yes, adrenalin had played a big part of that, she didn’t like her strongest talent being so dismissed because of a perceived weakness. Especially one that was no longer such an issue.

“You can help them. They need help.” A voice spoke from next to her and she jumped a bit to see a young man crouched on the wall beside her.

“Help who?” She asked.

“Them.” He disappeared, only to reappear on the opposite wall and pointed down. She wandered over to the other side of the walkway and saw the makeshift hospital sitting in the shade of the walkway she was standing on.

“The Inquisitor intended to build an infirmary, but plans were put on hold.” He murmured.

“Who is in charge down there?”

“There is a surgeon, but she is one person and there are more than she can help. I want to help them. You can help them.”

“Yes, I can… who are you?” She asked curiously.

“Cole. I am Cole.” He looked at her from beneath his large hat.

“Hello Cole. I am Saoirse.”

“Yes. And Shafyaa and Karim and Jana… and one that is too shy to talk to me. It is very young.”

 _He is a spirit of compassion, dear one._ Shafyaa’s voice echoed through her head.

 _Do you speak to him a lot?_ Saoirse asked inside her head.

_Sometimes. He asks for my opinion on how to help people. He helped guard you when you first arrived and were too exhausted to maintain contact with us._

“Ahhhh. Thank you for your assistance Cole. And for your help. Shafyaa likes you.”

Cole suddenly beamed at her. “I like her too. She tells funny stories.” He grew serious.

“Will you help? There is one down there that needs you, but he’s going to die soon.”

“Lead the way then!”

She followed Cole through Cullen’s office and down the stairs into the lower courtyard, where the smell of sickness and injury permeated the air. She felt instantly guilt ridden. How had she missed this before?

“You were not strong enough to see it before, but now you are.” Cole lightly touched her hand. She sighed and nodded. “He is this way.” The spirit boy took her hand and led her to a small canvas overhang, where a young man lay, his breathing laboured, and sweat on his brow. She could smell the sweet smell of decaying flesh around him and fell to her knees beside him, gently placing her hand on his head. His eyes opened, and he reached up a weak hand to hold her wrist.

“Please… I can’t leave my Mary. I promised I wouldn’t.” He turned his hand over and showed her the mark in the centre of his palm. “Please.”

“Shhh…. You won’t be leaving her today…” _Markus_ Shafyaa supplied. “Markus…. Just close your eyes and all will be well.” Moving to settle herself more comfortably on her knees she placed both hands on his wounded stomach and closed her eyes, opening herself to her spirits and her magic, and began.


	16. Chapter 16

Blackwall was walking from the washrooms with Finn when he heard the whispered commotion in the courtyard, and saw the people moving with haste towards the lower one. He reached out and got the attention of one of the guards on duty and asked about what the problem was.

The man gave a grunt and said “’er ladyship is ‘ealing a man in the ‘ealer camp. Been there while.” He dismissed Blackwall and went back to leaning against his pike in boredom. Blackwall felt like he’d never moved so fast in his life as he raced down the stairs to the cluster of tents at the bottom of the wall and pushed through the crowd, Finn close on his ankles. The sight that greeted him was astounding.

Saoirse knelt before a man lying on the ground, a golden light glowing around her body and his as she moved her hands slowly over his abdomen. The man seemed to be sleeping peacefully, his face calm and uninjured. Through the blood and grime stained tunic he wore, Blackwall could see fresh clean skin. He was more concerned with Saoirse instead. Even from his place in the front of the crowd he could see the grey of her pallor and the slight sway to her movements. He stepped forward, and knelt beside her, placing his hand on her glowing back, willing some of his own strength to enter her body and help her. Finn also leant against her side, facing towards the crowd, keeping a wary eye on them, supporting his human as best he could.

Time passed slowly, until the glow around Saoirse and the man faded away. He opened his eyes and smiled up at her, before falling asleep once more, exhausted after his experience over the last few days. Saoirse herself seemed to collapse in on herself, then leaning against Blackwall, her head on his shoulder. He twisted slightly, bringing his arm around her back and sliding the other under her knees when he had lifted her a little. With a slight groan he stood to his full height and picked her up, securing her against his chest, with her head resting on his left shoulder. Her eyes fluttered open for a moment and she lifted her free arm and cupped his cheek in her hand before letting it drop down into her lap. He felt his heart leap into his throat at the tender touch and turned to face the crowd. He just started walking towards the stairs, expecting the people to move out of the way. A few of the braver tried to reach out and touch her, but Finn was there instantly, giving warning barks or growls until that person moved away.

Reaching the Great Hall, he started moving towards the apartment’s door, but was stopped by both Leliana and Josephine, who rushed over with panic written all over their faces.

“What happened to Lady Trevelyan, Blackwall? Has she been injured?” Josephine demanded. Personally, Blackwall was amazed that the gossip hadn’t arrived inside the keep as yet, especially with Sister Nightingale’s army of spies.

“She’s exhausted herself is all. She and her spirits healed a man down in the healer’s camp.”

Leliana nodded and placed her hand on Josephine’s arm.

“It’s okay, Josie. I’ve seen this happen with another spirit healer in the past. She just needs some sleep and will be fine in the morning and in Blackwall’s excellent care.”

Josephine nodded and smiled at him.

“I will send some supper in for her. I am very glad I don’t have to write to the Inquisitor and tell him that she has been injured whilst he’s away.” She walked in front of him and opened the door to the apartments. “Have a good evening, Ser.” She melted away, back into the pre-dinner crowd.

With Finn following his closely he walked the few paces to her chambers and opened the door with his elbow and pushed it all the way open with his foot. He’d never been in here before and felt that the room well and truly reflected the woman. It was neat, but there were piles of books in various corners. Yellow curtains matched the bedspread and there were a few piles of clothes placed about. On the table beside the bed sat a vase with the daffodils he had given her, and even from this distance from them, he could feel the light spell she had cast on them to keep them fresh for longer.

He walked over and placed her on the bed, carefully removing her knee height boots before tucking her under the covers. He prowled the room for a moment whilst he waited for the servant to bring her food, unsure whether he should leave or not. Mostly he enjoyed watching her sleep. She had rolled to her side and pulled the covers into a bunch under her chin, one foot sticking out. He snorted. He had the tendency to do the same. That foot was heat regulation, or at least that’s what he used it for.

There came a short, sharp knock on the door, and he pulled it open quickly so as to not disturb her rest. He smiled at the servant standing there and took the tray from him and firmly closing the door. Pivoting her moved to the paper covered desk and placed the tray in the centre of it, accidently pushing a pile of papers and her drawing pad to the floor.

Reaching down he picked up the papers and placed them back on the desk without looking at them, then reached for the drawing pad. It had flipped open when it had landed, so he couldn’t help up see some of the sketches that it contained.

These pages held pictures of him. Several of them were him in the training ring, fighting Cullen. Two were of him leaning against the tree in the gardens whittling something small, and one was his sleeping, his hand resting on Finn’s flank. He blushed. He hadn’t been sleeping well of late, worried after his love, sleeping in the keep whilst he slept in his stable loft, so he’d unintentionally fallen asleep whilst she had been drawing the previous day. He felt his heart warm at the care and attention she placed in the details of his face, it was obvious that she cared, even if she was not ready to say anything as yet.

Curious he turned the page and looked at the images there. Leliana talking to the scouts, Josephine lecturing someone with her board and pen, the chargers lounging around The Herald’s Rest, Solas painting in the rotunda and Finn begging food at the dining table, Commander Cullen slipping him pieces of bacon when he thought no one was watching him.

The next few pages were confusing. The pictures were carefully drawn, right down to the details on the clothes and the way their hair was arranged, and freckles across their noses. They were all off a tiny child, with long dark hair, and large eyes. There were pictures of her as a tiny baby being held in arms, the image of a larger hand holding a much smaller one and then an age progression, all with Saoirse there with her. Underneath the last one was a date from the previous year and two images. The first was a clear drawing of the little one’s face, the bright smile and laughing eyes twinkling from the page. The second was of a faceless man pulling the screaming child from the room and Saoirse crumpled on the floor. Underneath the date was a name: Brianna Catriona du Maurier.

His heart broke for his Lady. He had had no idea about her lost child. Or the story behind it. No wonder there were times that her face grew so terribly sad. He turned to face the bed, holding the pad to his chest, he moved to her side and kissed her forehead gently. She sighed happily in her sleep, sinking further into the fade. He decided that now was the time to show these to the Inquisitor’s advisors. It was obvious that this child had been ripped from Saoirse, and he instinctively knew that he had to help her find her.


	17. Chapter 17

With a quick command to Finn to stay and guard, Blackwall snuck quietly from the room and out into the great hall. Gazing around, he first saw Cyra Lavellan and motioned her over. She walked over, with a curious expression on her face.

“No doubt you heard what happened this afternoon?” He asked without preamble. She nodded her head.

“Yes, the man in question is resting comfortably, drinking some broth. The entire hold is buzzing about it.”

“Well, my Lady is exhausted and sleeping, but I have to see the Commander and Leliana immediately. Can you keep an eye on her for a few minutes? I’ve heard Solas saying that exhaustion is the worst time for a mage…” He broke off, worry moving across his features. Cyra nodded and moved towards the door.

“I’ll watch over her, Ser. Cullen and Leliana are in the war room.” She disappeared through the door.

Blackwall moved through the hall, ignoring the whispers and disapproving looks directed at him. He cared little for the opinions of most. Pushing through the door to Josephine’s study, she stood when she saw him.

“Blackwall? Is there a problem?” He shrugged.

“Not a problem really… more like an important issue that needs to be rectified as soon as possible.” He held out the drawing pad, and she raised her eyebrows when she recognised it.

“That’s Lady Trevelyan’s sketch book.”

“Yes, and there are things inside that you three need to be made aware of, sooner rather than later.” He turned and walked towards the door leading to the council chamber, with Josephine hurrying behind him.

He didn’t stop when he got to the war room door, just pushed through it and strode across the room, a look of angry determination on his face. Leliana and Cullen looked up in surprise, when he stopped opposite them and place the book on the table in front of him.

“Where any of you aware that Saoirse has a daughter?” He decided to cut through all the greeting bullshit and get right to the heart of the matter, he didn’t want to be away from his lady love longer than was necessary. All three in front of him gave simultaneous gasps of horror and denials.

“Does the Inquisitor know?”

“I can guarantee that he does not.” Leliana stated. Blackwell nodded, and opened the sketch pad to the pages that showed the man taking the child away.

“Who is the man?”

“I can only assume it is her husband. She did mention to Eleanor that she had one.” Leliana answered.

“Yes, I overheard the Inquisitor and Dorian speaking about getting enough evidence against both of them; du Maurier and Bann Trevelyan.”

“Well, this husband is news to me, but its not a concern. Our partnership is recognised under chantry law. What I want to know, is whether it would be possible to find this little one? Soon.”

Leliana paced behind the table, her face thoughtful. “We know from shipping logs that the Bann and his retinue arrived in Denerim two months ago straight from the Free Marches. What my spies tell me is that, neither the Bann or his bodyguard had left the area around Ostwick for 6 or so months, and then it was du Maurier who travelled to Hercinia before returning to his family’s keep above Ostwick shortly after.”

“Do you have anyone in Hercinia, Leliana? Anyone who would be able to trace du Maurier’s steps or even check to see if Brianna Trevelyan was at the chantry orphanage?” Culled asked.

Josephine broke in, instead. “I can help. I have several friends of note in Hercinia, and one in particular, Count Joachim Von Schneider. He is a great supporter of the chantry and could act with a great deal of discretion.”

“Which ever way we choose, it will take a while to obtain this information, Blackwall. Though, we may hear something by the end of next week.” Nodding, Blackwall picked up the sketch pad and made to leave the room.

“Blackwall… may I have the sketch pad for a few a short while. I have some scouts that are proficient in drawing, and it may aid us if we have a picture for the count or our operatives to work with.” Backwall looked down at the pad and then back at Leliana.

“Of course, but hurry. I am not sure how long she will sleep, and I would hate for her to wake and find it missing.” Leliana nodded and gently took the pad from his hands and disappeared from the room.

Cullen continued pacing, rubbing is neck with agitated fingers. Blackwall assumed it was about the markers on the war table in front of him so made to leave the room, desperate to check on his lady love.

“Blackwall, one moment…” Blackwall turned and looked at the Commander.

“I am going to have to inform the Inquisitor.” He stated it calmly.

“Of course, I would expect no less.” Blackwall returned, stoking his fingers down his beard.

“But… I will ask him not to ask his sister about any of this. It is obviously something she hasn’t mentioned for a reason. Ben is usually the soul of discretion, but this may be beyond him, considering that it involves his sister.”

“Perhaps, you could wait a few days?” Blackwall offered. “In his last letter to Saoirse, he said he would be back tomorrow or the day after at the latest.” Cullen nodded, agreeing with the conditions.

Blackwell gave a half bow and exited the room, hurrying back to his Saoirse.

She was still sleeping peacefully when he entered the room, though she had switched sides and was facing towards the door. Cyra stood from the window seat and put the book down she had been reading.

“She has been talking a bit in her sleep and said your name a few times. But other than that, she is fine.” She whispered.

“My thanks, Cyra.” He moved towards the bed and reached down to gently stroke the hand resting against the spare pillow. “You should go rescue Cullen from the war room, or he’ll forget to eat again.” The small elf rolled her eyes and hurried from the room.

Still standing beside the bed, he gently pushed a curl of Saoirse’s hair back from her face, admiring the smattering of freckles over her nose. He bent over her and placed a soft kiss on her forehead before turning back to the window seat. Content to stand guard over her, even from so far. Her hand caught his as he stepped away however, and he turned back to see her watching him sleepily, her face unguarded and soft in the early evening light.

“Stay. Please. With me.” She murmured.

“I will, my lady. I’ll just be over the…” He started.

“No, Thom. Here with me. Please.”

“I… are you sure?” He had to ask, he found he’d never wanted anything more in his life.

“Yes. I am sure.” Her eyes closed again, and he watched her for a moment, before pulling off his gambeson and boots and pulled the covers back to allow him to slip under the sheets beside her. Saoirse merely snuggled into his side, resting her head on his shoulder and put an arm across his stomach, settling against him with a contented sigh.

“G’night, Brave Ser Knight.” She whispered against his neck. He smiled up into the darkness.

“Sleep well, Fair Maiden.” He whispered back, tightening his arms slightly. He found himself drifting off to sleep rather quickly, comforted by the weight of her in his arms and her legs entwined with his.


	18. Chapter 18

The next two days passed in quietly enough. Since her healing of the sick man, Saoirse had added visiting the infirmary tents to her daily activities, trying to help the surgeon and the few healers that the hold had available. Blackwall had been reluctant to let her go, but she had pointed out that Finn was beside her, and the Commander had assigned a few extra soldiers to patrol when it became clear that she wouldn’t be dissuaded from her course of action. Still, he couldn’t help coming to the top of the stairs leading to the lower courtyard to check on her occasionally. More often than not, Cole was her constant companion, leading her to the sickest of patients, and keeping a careful eye on her.

Either way, Blackwall still worried for her, only relaxing when she was again nearby. He had slept chastely by her side ever since the healing two days previously, and he both loved and hated it. He loved the trust she had placed in him by asking him to stay and he hated that he was so close but had yet been able to touch her like he had imagined. And he had imagined a lot.

Suddenly, the morning of the third day there was a brassy blast from the top of the front entrance that signalled the return of the Inquisitor and his party. Blackwall and Saoirse had been walking down to towards the battlements pathway when the sound was heard, and she’d turned her head in question at it.

“It just means the Inquisitor’s party has been seen, Love.” He pulled her arm back around his waist and wrapped his other arm around her waist. She smiled up at him.

“That means I should be down in the lower courtyard then, not up here with you.”

“It will take them a few minutes to arrive, I have enough time to do this…” He ducked his head, and pressed his lips against hers, closing his eyes when she melted against him, her tongue coming out to lightly stroke against his bottom lip before retreating again. He groaned softly, and deepened the kiss, bringing his hand up to cup her neck even as reciprocated her actions and flicked his tongue against the tip of hers when her mouth opened again.

When they pulled apart both of them were breathing heavier and they stared at each other, eyes shocked. Blackwall tried to hold himself still but was dying to push her against the battlement wall and kiss her again. Saoirse was standing there, two fingers pressed against her slightly swollen lips, her blue eyes wide, a faint blush on her cheeks. He wasn’t sure what to say to her, split between kissing her again and apologising.

“Again!” She demanded and flung her arms around his neck. Blackwall groaned again in the back of his throat and pushed her back against the nearest battlement wall, crowding her slightly as he deepened the kiss. For her part, Saoirse raised herself up on her tip toes and pressed against his chest, willingly let him take over the kiss, but giving back as much as he. She stroked her tongue against his when it pressed in and moaned lightly in her throat when his hands grasped her hips pulling them into his own.

They stood there, slowly pushing at each other as their lips moved against the other. Their light sounds of pleasure being drowned out by the day to day sounds of the fortress below them, before breaking apart when the bell rang twice. Their kiss broke, and they leant against each other, foreheads pressed together and goofy smiles on their faces.

“Mmm… Brave Ser Knight…” Speech seemed to be quite beyond her.

He moved his head to the side and places a warm, kiss on her neck, and made a purring noise, and pressed his hips against hers. She threaded her fingers through his thick hair and tilted her head a little more, enjoying the scrape of her beard against her skin.

The sound of horse hooves on the walkway below broke them apart and she pushed him away with a small grin.

“To be continued?” She asked lightly. Cupping his cheek in her palm, just as breathless as he.

He nuzzled her palm and gave her a heated smile. “Most definitely, Fair Maiden.” Saoirse gave him a blinding smile and hurriedly straightened her clothes, then moved to hurry down the stairs to the lower courtyard, her delighted voice calling out:

“Ben!! Dorian!!”


	19. Chapter 19

Ben looked up at the joyful sound of his name and smiled widely. He cast a quick sideways glance at Dorian, who seemed to be trying to keep up his Tevinter imperviousness in the face of such a wonderful greeting but gave in when Seerie’s slight body crashed into both of them.

He wrapped his arm around her and pulled both she and Dorian in for a close hug, breathing in the scent of her. She smelt like parchment, flowers and weapon oil? He frowned for a moment, then dismissed it. He was standing in the middle of a crowd of people wearing armour and weapons after all.

“Ah, Seerie. I missed you, _Leannan_. I am sorry we were so late.” He pressed a kiss to her forehead.

She just smiled up at him, her face rounder and fuller since the last time he’d seen her, and she seemed to have lost some of the sadness that lurked there. Not all of it though. Dorian decided he’d been patient enough and shouldered Ben out of the way, all the time giving his husband a cheeky grin.

“Amata! Of course, you’ve been absolutely lost with out us! How did you ever survive?” He kissed her on the cheeks and pulled her into a tight hug.

“Hey! That’s my sister, hands off! All her hugs are for me.” Ben shoved at his shoulder playfully. “Just like all your hugs are for me, Beloved.” He nuzzled his face into Dorian’s neck, who grumbled at him good naturedly.

“As you say, Amatus. Now… I am off to bathe… I can’t bare smelling like horse, road and sweat any longer!” In a flurry of robes, he disappeared towards the Inquisitor tower, and the bath he knew would be there.

Ben hugged his sister again. “Ah Seerie… you look so much better! I missed you.” Saoirse smiled up at him. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Blackwall coming to a stop about a metre behind his sister and was a little disconcerted with how possessive he was looking at her. He turned his look to him.

“Blackwall?” He asked, questioningly. “We are back for a bit now, there is no need for you to…”

“Stop it, Ben. He has every right.” She smiled gently at him and lifted her palm to show him the golden mark in the centre of it. Blackwall did the same. She reached out and cupped his cheek, before stepping back against Blackwall, who wound his arm around her waist and kissed her ear. “Thom is mine, and I am his.”

Ben looked down at the group and pinched the bridge of his nose as he considered the implications of such a statement. Blackwall had been pardoned, and whilst to some he remained unforgiven, he himself was the kind to let bygones be bygones. He was more concerned with the legalities of this union, but he knew there were chantry laws that protected and supported the match, no matter how they were presented.

He sighed and raised his head and gave them both a wide smile.

“Well! This was not what I was expecting when I returned, but it seems that this is a growing trend in Skyhold! Congratulations, _Leannan_ and you too… Brother.” He smirked at Blackwall’s sudden raised eyebrows. He held out his hand to Blackwall and smiled when the other man gripped his forearm in return.

“Does this mean you are going to stop sleeping in the stables?” He asked innocently and laughed out loud when both of them furiously blushed. “I see.” He reached over and hugged his sister again, still delighted that she was nearby.

“I have to clean up myself, and I am sure both Cullen and Leliana will want to talk about what we discovered in the Emerald Graves and probably Josephine will want to make sure I didn’t start and political incident…. Again.” He paused and looked down at their entwined hands.

“I’d like to speak to you later, Blackwall.” He smiled at his sister when she started to look worried. “Nothing to worry about, _Leannan._ I will see you both at lunch, yes?” They both nodded and he gave them another smile before walking towards his chambers. Out of habit, he smiled and stopped to chat with a few different people on his way through, but by the time he reached his door, he was well and truly done with being pleasant and setting an example.

Stomping up the stairs to his apartment, he saw Dorian lounging in the bathtub, the room smelling of sandalwood and him. He walked straight past his love, and flopped face first on to the bed and groaned.

“Oh dear. Amatus, we’ve only been home a bare hour.”

“Arg.” Was Ben’s eloquent response.

Dorian stifled a laugh and stood up, briskly towelling himself off before coming over to the bed and began unlacing Ben’s boots.

“What’s happened now?” He grunted as he pulled the filthy boot off and dropped it to the floor.

Ben answered, complete with hand gestures, his meaning lost however, as his face was still buried in the quilt.

“I see. Amatus, roll over. I am fluent in many languages, but mumble isn’t one of them.”

Ben rolled over and smirked at him, kicking his other loosened boot off.

“Saoirse and Blackwall… I just found out they are a thing.”

“Okay. I thought everyone knew.” Dorian reached down and unbuckled his belt, pulling it free.

“What!” Ben raised himself up on his elbows and looked at his love. “You KNEW! And you didn’t say anything!?”

“Of course, I knew, I saw the mark the night before we left. Varric saw it too.” He waved away the comment with an airy hand and turned his attention to the laces on the front of Ben’s pants.

“Humph. It’s complicated is what it is.” Ben helpfully lifted his lips and wiggled, letting Dorian pull the pants down and off his legs.

“Not really, Amatus. Chantry law all over Thedas protects the soul mate marks. Even dissolving a previous union fairly, should it occur. It’s only complicated if you make it so.” Dorian climbed up to straddle him, reaching up to pull the straps for the small breastplate Ben wore. Ben grinned up at him salaciously and placed his hands on Dorian’s naked hips.

“Ben, if you think we are going to do THAT when you smell of sweat, road and horse, you are delusional.” He quirked an eyebrow down at him. Ben just continued to grin, lifting his hips to rub himself against his love, just a bit.

“That didn’t bother you last night, or the night before… or the day before that… Come see this ravine, Amatus, the view in amazing. Yeah… that wasn’t the amazing thing you were interested in. You were so loud even Bull was blushing.” Dorian blushed but grinned down at him.

“Fiend.” He said lovingly. “Anyway, this can be as simple as you like. Fate has decreed that Saoirse and Blackwall are soul matched. That’s it. Du Maurier can go hang himself. He has no legal standing whatsoever.”

Ben finished pulling his breastplate off and started work on his shirt buttons. “I guess it makes it easier than my just annulling their marriage. That was going to be delving into a legal grey area.”

“See? It’s already working out better.” Dorian leaned down and placed heated kisses up the column of Ben’s neck. Ben tilted his head back to allow Dorian to move up his neck and chin, the touches making his skin burn and sighed at the sensations.

“So…. Are you going to get in that tub, Amatus… or am I going to have to enjoy myself… alone?” Dorian licked his ear and gently bit on the lobe.

“Bath. Bath sounds good! Wait right there!” He shoved an unresisting Dorian to the side and leaped across the room, slipping a bit in the water on the floor.

“Amatus, don’t kill yourself getting into the bath…. You know I am a foregone conclusion.” Dorian leant back into the cushion and eyed his love, who was trying to bath as fast as possible.

“I know… I know… but I have to hurry and get clean… so I can enjoy getting dirty all over again.” He smirked and dunked his head under the water.

Dorian gave a deep, rich belly laugh. “Oh, you are glorious!”


	20. Chapter 20

“Right, now that’s all cleared up would you three like to tell me what the fuck is going on?” Ben placed his hands on his hips and gave his advisors the eye. “You’re over there acting like there’s a huge ass spider about to bite me – and I know there’s not, because I’ve looked, multiple times.”

Cullen immediately blushed red and began to rub his neck, whilst both Leliana and Josephine looked away, both suddenly interested in the wall.

“Nose goes!” Leliana said, instantly putting her finger to the end of her nose. Josephine quickly followed and both smirked at Cullen who groaned comically.

“That’s really not fair you know.” He muttered. Ben looked at them, amused.

“That’s a thing now? I’ll remember that, especially when I don’t want to go out on the next mission.” Josephine snickered.

“So, since you’ve been volunteered to tell me, better get to it. Better to rip the bandage off as they say.”

“Hrm… well…” Cullen stuttered.

“Out with it man!”

“Saoirse has a daughter, that we believe her husband took away and hid in a chantry orphanage somewhere in the Free Marches.” Cullen blurted it out all at one.

“Smooth.” Leliana muttered. Cullen blushed ever darker.

“Excuse me, what now?”

“A… servant found Saoirse’s drawing pad when she was cleaning her rooms about a week ago.” Leliana commented, deciding for now that she’d keep Blackwall out of it. “It had fallen to the floor. When she picked it up, it was open to a page that contained two images.” She pulled a copy of the drawing out of its hiding spot and passed it to Ben.

He stood quietly for a moment, staring down at the images, before abruptly walking towards the door.

“Inquisitor… I don’t think it’s wise to question you…” He held up one finger and ripped open the door. Seeing a servant walking down the hall towards Josephine’s study he yelled to her.

“Please tell Dorian I want him here, immediately.” The startled woman nodded her head and raced off. Ben came back through the door and closed it softly. He moved further into the room, still looking down at the image, running his finger over the wide eyes of the small child, then stroking over the image of Saoirse collapsed on the floor. Cullen, Leliana and Josephine stayed on the other side of the table, worried for their friend, but knowing it was not him that he needed at the moment. There was the sound of running footsteps outside the room, and then the door was flung dramatically open.

“Amatus!” Dorian swirled into the room, taking in Ben’s lost expression, and the looks of concern on his advisors faces. “Give us a moment please.” He ordered, uncaring that he was not really in the position normally to tell them to do anything. The three however nodded, and quietly filed out of the room.

“Ben? Talk to me, Amatus.” He saw the now half crumpled parchment in his hands, and angled his head slightly to look at it, and gasped.

“Brianna du Maurier.”

“No.” Ben’s voice was cutting. “Brianna Trevelyan.” He stood staring at the paper a moment longer before turning his face to Dorian, tears filling his eyes. “She didn’t trust me, Dor. All this time in the Emerald Graves, and I could have gone and gotten this little Poppet. Why didn’t she say anything?” Dorian wrapped his arms around his love and pulled him close.

“I don’t think it’s about trusting or not trusting you, Amatus. Its about not trusting anyone. Even though we don’t know any of the details of her life, we do know she was abused by her husband and your father. Maybe she felt the little one was safer there, for the time being. Safe from the unknown. Look at the way she drew herself. She was, and probably still is, completely devastated, overwhelmed and scared.”

Ben could understand the logic of it, but his heart was still broken, for his sister, for her daughter and for himself. He straightened, and nodded his head, running his finger over the little one’s image again.

“She looks like mother.” He murmured. Dorian just squeezed him tightly and kissed his temple.

“What are we going to do now, Dor? I can’t leave her in Chantry care. She has a family that wants her desperately.”

“Well, first I suggest we talk with Leliana, if she knows about Brianna, then you can be sure she is verifying any information she has. Then, then I suggest we talk with Saoirse and Blackwall. This directly involves them. I have absolutely no doubt that Saoirse wants her daughter back more than anything in the world.” Ben nodded and smiled at his beloved.

“We have a niece.” He said.

“Who will nod doubt have use wrapped around her little fingers, in short order.” Dorian surmised.

“Happily so.” Ben smiled. “Okay, let’s get them in here and get this sorted.”


	21. Chapter 21

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry... this is a bit of a long one... and ends in smut... sorry... not sorry?

Saoirse could tell there was something going on. Ben and Dorian were sparkling, almost literally. They laughed louder, their stories were more outrageous, and they were exceptionally affectionate. Blackwall seemed a little overwhelmed too, quietly sitting next to her, his hand wrapped around hers. She rested her head against his shoulder and watched them both with bemusement. Finally, she had enough.

“Okay… Ben? Dorian? What is going on?” She pulled up the nerves to ask, deciding that there was no reason to fear any of the men in the room with her. It was not likely that any of them were going to hurt her. She did start to feel nervous when Ben’s shoulders dropped and looked at Blackwall for support. He merely smiled at her and wrapped his arm around her shoulder. Ben came over and sat on the coffee table in front of her and reached out his hand to her, in the palm was a folded piece of paper, that had obviously been open and closed multiple times. She reached forward and picked it up, opening it and then gave out a distressed cry.

She shoved Blackwall away and got to her feet, running down the stairs to the apartment door and trying hard to pull the door open, only to find it magically sealed. She began hyperventilating and slid down the door to sit on the floor, moving into the corner and burying her face in her knees. She felt movement on either side of her and then gentle hands on her back, it just pushed her into further panic, a keening sound working its way out of her throat, a sound she had not made for a long time and broke the hearts of those kneeling before her.

“Love…” Warm arms slide around her shoulders and legs and she was jostled slightly as Thom pulled her into his lap and held her tightly. She turned her face and buried in his gambeson, fingers moving from her knees to clutch desperately at the fabric over his chest. “It’s okay. You are safe.” He mumbled the words over and over into her hair as he stroked her back, trying to get her to quieten down a little. She felt another large body push against her other side and began to softly croon a Starkhaven lullaby in her ear. Finally, she felt Finn settle against her legs, rubbing his head up and down, trying to calm her too.

Over time, the keening wail faded, and she shuddered with exhaustion as the fear, and panic slowly started to recede, leaving just tears silently tracking down her cheeks.

“How did you find out about Brianna?” Her voice croaked out; her face still half buried in Thom’s gambeson.

“A servant knocked your drawing pad onto the floor whilst taking care of their duties. The page was the one it opened on to. When they saw it, they took it to Leliana.” Ben sat back on his heels and reached out to stroke his hand down her midnight hair.

“If he finds out you know about her, he’ll kill her. He said so himself.” She turned large tear-filled blue eyes to her brother.

“Oh Love.” Thom reached his hand up and pushed her hair away from her face. “We won’t let him. I swear it to you.”

“And you can just accept that I have a daughter… no repercussions?” She tried not to sound bitter but found it nearly impossible. He ran the hand in her hair down to her chin and lifted her face up and looked in her eyes.

“Fair maiden, I accept anything and everything that you are. You are mine and I am yours.”

“Just like that?” She was afraid. Afraid to hope, afraid to trust, but more afraid that he’d push her away, even though she knew he would never do so.

“Just like that.” He pressed small kisses against her forehead and continued to cradle her face in his hand.

“Us too, _Leannan_. There is nothing in Thedas that would make any of us turn from you.” Ben smiled at her, a hope filled look, just as Dorian’s was, though his was further highlighted by the wet remains of the kohl he highlighted his eyes with. He reached out his hand and placed it against her knee and squeezed.

“Please tell us, Amata. Tell us so we can right this wrong properly.” Saoirse knew the Tevinter Mage rarely let people see this side of him, the gentle, caring and loving side, reserving it only for a few people, and gave him a watery smile.

“Okay, but not down here… I need wine.” Blackwall smirked against her cheek and stood up with her in arms, groaning just a little. “I’m not that heavy, you oaf!” She smarted.

“No… you’re not. I’m just old.” He sassed back, as they moved back to the couch, he sat and kept her on his lap, determined to not let her go. Ben and Dorian arranged themselves on the coffee table again and looked at her. She sighed and closed her eyes for a moment.

“Shortly after our twelfth birthday, you were off with Maxwell in the courtyard training I think, and I was left alone in our rooms. Father was in a frightful mood, as he had been since mother died. He came in and started yelling at Isla, our older sister, and in his rage he pushed her against the book case and hurt her arm. I didn’t even think about it, before I knew what had happened, the golden voice in my head told me what to do and I was healing Isla. I didn’t realise father had seen me, until he grabbed me by the hair and dragged me down to his study.” She rubbed a tired hand over her face.

“He raged at me for hours… the things he said. I think the nicest thing he called me was an abomination and then accused me of letting mother die.” She broke off. “If I’d known I could heal, don’t you think I would have tried to save her? I missed her so much when she went away.” She looked at Ben imploringly.

“Seerie, I would never have considered mother’s death your fault. If anyone is at fault, it’s father for delaying calling a healer from the Circle.” She relaxed slightly and gave a small smile, pleased to hear the validation held within his voice. Blackwall kissed her temple and ran his hand up and down her back.

“Shortly after, Father announced that I was going to Starkhaven to visit with Mother’s parents. I was so excited. I missed them, and whilst I was sad that I would be away from you, Isla and Maxwell, I was thrilled to be going. Only when we left, we didn’t go to Starkhaven. Father had worked out a deal with the du Maurier’s to keep me “safe” at their hold above Ostwick. I was given a set of room, some books and a du Maurier retainer who was supposed to tutor me. Father would visit every so often, but mostly he just came to beat me, and tell me I had murdered mother.” She rested her cheek against Blackwall’s shoulder. Dorian came to sit beside her and took his hand in his.

“This kept on going for years. I was left alone most of the time, but I grew to fear the sound of feet on the stairs. One our eighteenth birthday, Father came to my rooms and dragged me downstairs by the arm. In the bottom room was Lord and Lady du Maurier and their son Stewart. I was told I was getting married that day and that was it. I found out later that father promised the du Maurier’s money and land in an attempt to keep them quiet about my presence, and Stewart had got him to agree to marriage, by offering him his loyalty as personal body guard, in return for control over any children that might issue from the arrangement.” She snorted.

“Father agreed, stipulating that I had to be made available when he wanted or needed it, with out excuse. They of course agreed, because they really had everything to gain and nothing to lose at that point. I’d already been held prisoner in their keep for four years.” She shrugged and continued. “Unfortunately, I wasn’t able to maintain a pregnancy for longer three months for the first few years, not that I had wanted to. My spirits made it so these little ones didn’t stick, because we could not bare the thought of them growing up in such a place. Du Maurier blamed father though, saying his beating were the reason why I couldn’t carry them, and for a year kept father away.” She pushed up from Blackwall’s lap and moved to pace around the coffee table.

“In that year, du Maurier would… visit… frequently. He never hurt me, but he made it so I had little or no ability to fight him off or even know what was happening. By the time I was able to recover my senses, I was 6 months pregnant already and there was no way I could bring myself to…” She broke off. “I felt the baby move and kick… I just couldn’t.”

“When Brianna was born, Stewart was beside himself with rage. He accused me of deliberately denying him his son. That was the first night he hit me. He broke my collar bone.” She trailed her fingers over it, feeling for the slight bump under the skin. “I healed myself of course, but that just made him come back night after night, yelling and screaming at me, calling me names, denying me food and water at his whim. I had to make sure to keep dear little Bri out of his sight. I’d make the servant take her to his room when I heard the tread on the stairs.” She moved over to the balustrade and gripped it in white knuckled hands. Ben went immediately to her side and put an arm around her waist, supporting her.

“This continued for almost two years. I’d hide my darling girl from him and endure his increasingly infrequent visits. But he allowed father to return, who once again started taking his anger out on me. He never touched Bri… in fact, I don’t believe he ever saw her. He just saw me, the murder of his wife.” She came back to sit between Thom and Dorian and leant her head against her love’s shoulder again.

“Almost 12 months ago, Stewart came back to the du Maurier Keep. He’d brought some company and was entertaining them in the rooms below. Brianna got sick, and whilst I had enough energy to keep the worst of it away, I didn’t have enough to contact my spirits well, and soon I was sick too. Late one night, I didn’t hear Bri cry fast enough, and before I knew what was happening, Stewart had all but kicked in the door and dragged Bri from her bed. The things he said do not bare repeating but let’s leave it with him threatening her life and carrying her from the room.” She began to sniffle again, her heart thumping hard in her breast as the pain of separation rose again.

“He told me that I would tell no one about her, the daughter of an abomination. If I did, he would see her dead before the week was out. He was gone for a month before he returned and told me again to not speak of her, I kept my promise. I endured what he and father dished out, but at night… at night I would use what little energy I had and I would search the fade, and I would find her night after night, and be with her, playing with her in our dreams, whilst Shafyaa protected us.” She reached over to pick up Thom’s hand. She looked at Ben.

“She’s not in the Free Marches. She’s in the orphanage in Denerim. I was trying to figure out how to get out of the palace without Father and Stewart’s retainers when Queen Eleanor found me. I think she’s okay, because she still finds me at night.” She looked down at their joined hands. “You must think I am a terrible coward.”

“No. Saoirse, you were trying to protect your baby and you had no idea who you could trust. There is no blame or anger. And fortunately, we have someone who will help.” Ben came to kneel in front of her and took both of her hands in his. “Brianna deserves to be with her family who love her. And as for the Bann of Ostwick and du Maurier. Well, I am sure I’ll get their attention when I send official proclamation of the dissolvement of your marriage and subsequent re-marriage to the Teyrn. But we’ll wait for official notification until after we have retrieved the little one.”

“Re-marriage?” Saoirse said faintly.

“Of course. Is that not what you want?” He asked.

“Of… of course… but you can’t rush these things!” Today had been such an emotionally fraught day.

“Yes, I can. I’m the Inquisitor. Besides, I don’t think Blackwall would mind in the least.” Saoirse turned her head and looked Blackwall, who smiled widely down at her, his grey eyes shining.

“Well… I have to ask then… am I to be Saoirse Blackwall or Rainier?”

All three men looked at with mouths open, and Thom with a great deal of trepidation.

“You know?” He whispered hoarsely.

She turned and faced him, reversing their roles and placing her hands on both his bearded cheeks.

“What I know is that you were manipulated by Orlesian politics and duped by your commanding officer and Archduke Gaspard de Chalons, who denied any involvement. I know that you ran, afraid of the consequences of your actions. I also know that you didn’t know that Callier was travelling with his wife and children.” She searched his eyes with hers and gave him a slight smile. “I know you will never forgive yourself for their deaths or your part in them, but also that you’ve tried to make amends ever since you took on the role of Blackwall. And I am so proud of you.”

Tears ran down his face unchecked and he looked down at his lap, his shoulders shaking with his silent sobs.

“I don’t deserve…” he began.

“I think fate has decided that we both do, don’t you?” She asked lightly. He made a little hiccupping noise which made her smirk before she leant forward and pressed a kiss to the top of his head. “I think we deserve each other.”

She pushed him back a bit and resumed her spot in his lap, wrapping both of his arms around herself, whilst he tried to collect himself, his face buried in her neck.

Ben slapped his knees and stood. “Well, that’s done then. As the Herald of Andraste and the Inquisitor, I proclaim you both married. Actual ceremony to be decided. But legalities adhered to, you are now married. Congratulations.” Dorian rolled his eyes.

“Yes, well I am still waiting for my ceremony… husband. You are yet to make an honest man out of me.” He snarked.

“Ah, my Darling Dorian, whenever you want the ceremony, we will organise it. I’ll even wear a Tevinter Robe just for you.” Ben swept him into his arms and waltzed him around the room. Saoirse giggled from her perch on Thom’s lap.

“Rainer. I want you to be Saoirse Rainier. I want you to be mine.” Thom’s voice was rough against the skin of her neck.

“Then that’s who I am. Lady Saoirse Rainier… my Lord.” She turned her head to look at him, finding his eyes already on her. His lips covered hers, his hand moving up to hold her neck, fingers splayed over her jaw as his tongue slid into her mouth. She hummed and pressed in closer.

“Now! Now! Now! No canoodling on my couch unless it’s me doing it with Dorian. House rules.” Ben grumped. “Besides, we don’t have time to waste. Dorian and I will go and speak to Leliana and you two go and pack. We are leaving for Denerim as soon as we get confirmation that Brianna is where you say she is.” Saoirse jumped to her feet and ran to her brother hugging him tightly. He hugged her just as hard.

“I know you are still learning to trust me, _Leannan_ , but just know, I’d do anything for you, any time.” He kissed the top of her head and let her go.

“First things first. Better go announce this. It’s worth it just to see the noble’s hair catch on fire.” Dorian rolled his eyes and followed his love down the stairs, with Saoirse and Thom right behind them, though she stopped him just as they were about to exit into the hall.

“Are you sure, Thom?” She looked up at him, nerves clearly showing on her face. He stopped and drew her close, pressing a kiss to her nose before smiling down into her face.

“Yes, Love. I am very sure. I don’t deserve you, but I will do everything to make sure I am worthy of you.” The smile that grew across her face seemed impossibly wide and he returned it. “I know we haven’t known each other long, Fair Maiden. But I love you, and I will through this life and the next.”

She reached up on tip toes and pressed her lips to his. “My heart is yours, Brave Ser Knight. Forever and ever.” Their mouths moved together slowly, tongues dancing together momentarily before they boke broke away, their breathing a little laboured.

“Perhaps we should be out there for Ben’s announcement…” She started and then gave a small groan when he began kissing down the side of her neck.

“But, it’s my wedding night… I’m doing what we should be doing…” His hand slid down her side and grasped her thigh, lifting it up to his hip as he pressed himself closer to her leather clad core.

“Thom…” She felt his fingers pull a few buttons on her shirt undone, his mouth following the widening gap in the fabric, she felt his warm, wet tongue slide over her skin and pushed her fingers into the hair at his temples. She pushed her hips back against his, feeling the growing hardness press against her core and his strained groan at the heat of her pressed against him.

The door suddenly open and bashed into his back and he gave a slight yelp.

“Oh for…. Really? You couldn’t do that in your own room?” Dorian’s half disgusted, half amused voice broke through their thoughts and once again she found herself with her forehead against his, big but slightly frustrated smiles on both their face.

“Ben’s waiting for you, you pair of reprobates…. It’s not a good idea to keep the Inquisitor waiting.”

“Okay… okay…” Thom mumbled. “Give us two minutes.” Dorian hmphed and twirled away, slamming the door after him.

“If we don’t go, Ben will come in next.” She giggled against his ear.

“I know, Love. It’s just, that’s the second time we’ve been interrupted today… Do you know how hard it’s been to not touch you?” He began pressing kisses to her neck again. She started to giggle again.

“What?” He asked, bringing his left hand up to cup her breast through her shirt and breast band.

“Your beard tickles.”

“Mmmm. Wait til you feel it other places.” He growled, pulling his lips away from her neck in time to see the furious blush that flashed over her cheeks.

“I’ve never… ah…” She stuttered.

“Oh, love… just wait until I get you alone…” He kissed her again, lightly this time with a grin over his bearded face.

“Ah...” She was speechless, and he laughed, a deep belly laugh.

“C’mon… the sooner this is over, the sooner other things can get started.” He pulled away from her and pulled the bottom of his gambeson down to cover himself a little more. Still blushing, she refastened the buttons on her shirt. Then hand in hand they left her brother’s apartments and went out into the great hall.


	22. Chapter 22

“Finally! What were you two doing, I wonder?” Ben snarked at her lightly. He’d never seen Saoirse so happy before, and he was sure that was a touch of beard burn on her neck. He grinned over her head at Blackwall and then Dorian, who sent him a cheeky kiss.

“Okay, Members of the Inquisition and our important guests, your attention please.” The loud room quieted down in moments. Dorian came to stand next to her and whispered in her ear.

“At least he’s not insulting people this time.” She grinned and looked at her brother, her hand held firmly in Thom’s.

“As some of you may not be aware, I was lucky enough to rescue my sister, Saoirse recently, from foul and illegal confinement. Some of you have seen her, and some of you have been helped by her healing.” There was a loud cheer from the crowd. She blushed deeply and moved closer to Thom and sighed when he wrapped her arm around her waist, encouraging and supporting her.

“What some of my might not know, is for the fourth time since the Inquisition was formed is that fate has decreed that my Lovely sister is worthy of a soul match.” He waves both Saoirse and Thom over.

“By my position of Herald of Andraste and head of the Inquisition, I formally announced the dissolvement of Saoirse’s marriage to Stewart du Maurier and that she and Thom Rainier are hence forth considered married under divine law. Please congratulate Thom and Saoirse Trevelyan-Rainier.” He turned, giving his sister a huge grin, his delight evident on his face.

A huge cheer went around the Great Hall. Whilst at least half of the occupants had not had any contact with Saoirse and at least the other half viewed Thom with thinly veiled suspicion, a soul match was always joyously celebrated.

Within moments, members of the inner circle had pulled both Saoirse and Thom to a table and were pushing drinks into their hands. Ben could see the slight looks of frustration in their faces but knew that they would stay there until given a graceful way to depart. Nodding at Dorian, he jerked his head towards Leliana’s tower. Receiving a corresponding nod, they slipped from the room and moved silently past a painting Solas and up to the Rookery.

“Sister Nightingale?” Ben called softly. She stuck her head in from the balcony and smiled at him.

“Out here…. It’s a beautiful night to watch the stars.” Both he and Dorian followed her out onto the chilly balcony and nestled together. Ben wrapping his arms around his love before he even had a chance to start shivering.

He quickly detailed what Saoirse had told them earlier in the evening, watching her face when he told her about the years of physical abuse by her father and husband, and then admitted that Saoirse spent every night with her daughter, within the fade.

“Leli, the babe is nearly three, but actively finds her mother each night in the fade. When we bring her here, Solas will have to work with her closely, especially if she turns out to be a strong dreamer.”

“That’s if Shafyaa lets him. She’s already proven determined and defensive of Saoirse around Solas, that may extend to Brianna and the last thing we need is our only Rift Mage getting hurt.”

“Either way, Leli. The babe is in the orphanage in Denerim, not in Hircinia. But, given how stressed du Maurier and the Bann must be by now, we are concerned that there is significant danger to the girl. We are prepared to leave tomorrow to retrieve her, but we need confirmation that she is there and safe before departing.” Ben finished and looked at her hopefully.

She nodded decisively. “I suggest you head out at first light, even if she don’t locate her in Denerim, it will be easy to detour to Jader if the need arises. I will contact Alistair tonight and hopefully I should have your information before departure in the morning.” Knowing that they had been effectively dismissed they left her to her ruminations on the balcony and walked down to the bottom floor of the rotunda.

Solas was still sitting, applying paint to the walls, a look of fierce concentration. They both waited for a while and coughed to get his attention when he took the brush from the wall for longer than a few seconds. He looked down and gave them a half smile.

“Yes, Inquisitor?”

“We are leaving for Denerim at some point tomorrow morning, and I would like you to accompany us.”

“Of course. What is the reason?” He dipped the brush back into the paint pot and began on the next section.

“We believe we have located Saoirse’s daughter and from her comments, she’s a dreamer.”

“Ah… how old is the child?”

“Nearly three.”

“Three!” He put down the brush and climbed down the scaffolding quickly.

“Yes, she actively finds Saoirse every night to play. We believe she learnt it from Saoirse, though we can not confirm that.” Dorian stated.

“That is quite unheard of! For a little mageling to tap into their powers so young.” Solas paced the room. “I have little experience with children, but I will attempt to speak with her. If Saoirse’s spirit will allow me.” He paused and looked at Dorian. “It might be better if you attempt to see if Feynriel can come to Skyhold. He might have better luck with Saoirse too.”

Dorian nodded. “I will send a message tonight. He might be willing to come, especially if Mae asks him personally.”

“Very good. I will be ready to go early tomorrow then.” He climbed back up the ladder and returned to his painting, though his face was distracted as he worked. Ben just raised an eyebrow at Dorian and left the room to inform Bull, Cole and Cassandra that they would be accompanying them in the morning as well.


	23. Chapter 23

Sighing, Leliana reached for the sending crystal, and opened it, sincerely hoping that she did not wake the infant twins or their mother. She stroked over the crystal and whispered “Eleanor” softly.

“Leli? Ellie’s warm voice filled Leliana’s small room.

“ _Mon amour_ , it is good to hear your voice again so soon.”

“And yours too.”

“I did not wake anyone up?”

“No. Alistair is touring the guest wing with Maric and Cat, trying to simultaneously calm them down and irritate the Orlesian Ambassador.”

Leliana snickered. “Well, I finally have an update for you about Saoirse.”

“Good! How is our dear little healer?”

“Well, she finally talked to Ben, Dorian and Blackwall about what happened to her, after Ben confronted her with that drawing I sent to you.”

“The poor woman. I knew du Maurier was a bastard, just not this much of a bastard.”

“Yes, well it seems he may have dumped Brianna Trevelyan at the Chantry Orphanage in Denerim.”

“Of all the…”

“Quite. Ben, Dorian, Saoirse and Blackwall are leaving for Denerim tomorrow morning, but first we need confirmation that the little one is actually there.”

“This Blackwall fellow seems to be incredibly involved; I must say.”

“Oh! I am sorry, I neglected to share this with you. When Ben and Dorian arrived back here with Saoirse, her palm flared, and she got a soul mark. It turns out Blackwall has the matching one. Ben declared her marriage to du Maurier dissolved this evening and said that she was now married to Blackwall under divine law.”

“Oh… oh how lovely!” The Fereldan queen sniffled. Leliana giggled.

“It took an opportunistic Orlesian Marquis to get her to openly admit it, but I believe they are happy, if a bit desperate to be alone. I don’t suppose the Bann of Ostwick and du Maurier are still in residence?”

“No… they departed about a week after Saoirse disappeared. Neither one was happy with the other and the Bann was quite disappointed in the lack of increased wool shipments. The Teyrn of Ostwick is however, he and his son are here to finalise the dowry for his son’s soul match wedding. Quite a nice man really, and certainly a close familial tie with us – Fergus did marry his daughter.”

“That’s right… how are Fergus and Rowena?”

“Blissful. She gave birth to a son a week or so ago. So Teyrn Maldwyne is here to complete the discussions before he journeys on to Highever to join his wife and family.”

“Nobles are funny… trying to ring every concession out of a divine match.”

“Ah, don’t knock it. My soul match with Alistair is the only reason the Landsmeet accepted us.” The sound of a door opened in the background and then there was a loud whomp onto the bed behind her.

“Ellie, my light, my love, my darling wife…” Leliana heard Alistair groan into the bed.

“Yes, my Alibear?” Leliana rolled her eyes at her dear friend soppy tone.

“Maric roared so loudly, that he woke the ambassador, and he’s decided to spend the rest of the mission at the Embassy – on the other side of the river.” He couldn’t keep the pride out of his voice.

Leliana jumped in before anything could happen between the two of them.

“Sounds like Maric is living up to his name then, yes?”

Both Ellie and Leliana gasped when Alistair squeaked in surprise.

“I never took you for a squeaker, Alistair… that’s not very manly of you.”

“Err… I’m manly enough… ask my wife!” He blustered. His wife snickered.

“Anyway, back to the point. We need to get someone into the chantry orphanage as soon as possible tomorrow morning to see is Saoirse’s daughter is there and if possible, remove her to safety.”

“That’s not a problem.” Alistair answered. “I’ll go make a random inspection in the morning, at sunrise on the pretence of checking on the welfare of the little ones now that the Divine is dead. Which we should probably do anyway. The Chantry is notorious for its mistreatment of young ones.” He sounded completely disgusted.

“We’ll get back to you as early as possible in the morning, Lel.” Eleanor added.

“Thank you, _mes amis_. We will await word.” With that, the call ended and Leliana returned to her post on the balcony overlooking Skyhold, her hand clasped together behind her back.


	24. Chapter 24

Saoirse sat back in her chair and eyed the group of people gathered around her. They were all smiling and laughing, sharing their wishes for soul matches and fated loved ones. To be honest, she’d never considered having one before it had happened. She looked over at Thom who was laughing at something Sera had been muttering about Solas and an egg. He was so handsome. Thick brown hair, that hung to his shoulders when he hadn’t put it up in a bun at the back of his head, a neatly trimmed beard, streaked with silver. Prominent cheek bones, piecing silvery blue eyes, and nose that had been broken more than one and a full set of lips that she wished were on her, rather than talking to others.

Having thoughts like this was strange. She’d never had them in her marriage, had never enjoyed sex with Stewart, though she was fortunate she didn’t remember him forcing himself on her. It was there in the back of her head, but in a way, she was grateful that she had no memory of it. Touching Thom though made her think things she’d never thought before and feel things she’d never even considered. One touch of those bearded lips against her neck and she was ready to go up in flames. Even now, watching his talk with his friends, his hand resting on her knee, she was daydreaming of a hundred different things she’d rather be doing instead of playing nice right now.

Her eyes jerked back down to the hand on her knee again. It had travelled a little more up her thigh and his index finger was drawing circles on the inside of her thigh as he talked. With his other hand he picked up his tankard of ale and slowly sipping it, a slight, yet cheeky smile curving through his beard. When he leaned forward to place the tankard back down on the tabletop, he took the opportunity to move his hand further up her thigh, bringing his fingers within centimetre of her heated core.

She squirmed a little in her seat, and listen to Lady Montiliyet, but she was now far too interested in what his fingers were doing. She moved a little, coming to lean against the table as she nodded her head at Josephine, desperately hoping that it did in fact look like she was paying attention. Thom’s hand had begun to move in slow circles again, coming to brush against her centre before moving again. She felt zings of exquisite sensation move through her core, and tried to press her thighs together, though that did little more than press his hand closer to her and make her the sensations stronger.

She abruptly stood up, a flush creeping along her cheeks as everyone stopped talking to look at her.

“Ah, many pardons. But, since we are leaving for Denerim tomorrow, I need to pack. Good night!” She gave what she hoped was a cheerful grin and walked calmly to the door leading to her apartment. As soon as the first door closed behind her, she all but ran the last few steps to the next, leaning against the door, scrabbling at the doorknob to get it open.

She was suddenly flattened against the door, as a hard chest pushed against her back and a hot mouth began to kiss along her throat, one hand gently pulling her head to one side to give him greater access to her smooth skin. His other hand moved to grasp her hip even as he crowded behind her, pushing himself against the fleshiness of her backside.

“Thom!” She groaned and pushed back against him and was rewarded when his lips stopped kissing and started to suck on her instead, the hand on her neck moving down to cup her breast through her skirt and breast band. The hand on her hip followed down her arm and covered the hand still trying to open the door and helped her with the latch, both of them stumbling into the room when it sprang inwards. He caught her before she landed on the floor, but instead of righting her on her feet, he twisted her in is arms and carried her to the rug in front of the fireplace.

Laying her down, he moved to straddle her hips, his cheeks red, and his eyes burning with desire. She reached up to him, pulling her fingers through his hair as he lowered his mouth the hers again. As they twisted and rubbed against each other, his fingers deftly undid the buttons on her shirt, pulling out of her pants and laying it open. Moving between her legs, he pressed himself against her, even as he undid the toggles on his gambeson and the buckles on his belt, pushing them both off his shoulders to throw them behind him.

She raised her legs around his waist as he began feverishly pressing small sucking kisses over her collar bone, growling in the back of his throat when his lips met her breast band instead of the bare flesh he craved. He roughly reached up and yanked it down, revealing his plump breasts to his gaze, the nipple hard and colours a beautiful dusky rose.

“Seerie, I… have to…” He groaned and pressed his hard length against her.

Saoirse was seeing through a lust fuelled haze and pulled her arms from around his shoulders to furiously pull at the laces on her pants. Thom pulled back onto his knees, and ripped the shirt from his body, uncaring about where he flung it, then he loosened the ties on her boot and pulled it off, it receiving the same treatment as the clothing he had removed, thrown over his shoulder with an uncaring thump.

He groaned then, her hands coming to slide down his hairy chest, over his broad belly to grasp his hips, her tongue flicking out to lick over one nipple and then the next.

“Thom… please.” Saoirse pushed him a little, and then moaned when he rolled onto his side, only to pull down her leather pants and delicate small clothes. Her breaths were coming in small pants as his warm skin slid over hers, the feeling of his strongly muscled, hirsute chest pressing against her own was making her whimper against his chest as she tried to get closer to him.

Her world exploded seconds later, at the first delicate touch of his fingers against her pearl and she arched her back, screaming against his shoulder as the sensations flooded her body. She heard an answering groan and two thick fingers pressed inside her, tormenting and delighting her. Those two fingers began to move in and out of her, rubbing against the delicate wall behind her clit and plunging her headlong into a second climax before she had even finished the first. And then he was there, moving over her, kneeling widely between her thighs and pressing the blunt end of himself against her still fluttering core.

She gave a soft moan as she jerked her hips up slightly, feeling him press further in with her movement. He buried his face against, gently biting the crux between shoulder and neck as his hands slid down over her breasts, down her softly rounded hips and around to grasp her bottom tightly in both large palms. His breathing was ragged against her skin as he pressed slowly forward, and she gasped at every movement, having never felt to full before. With a deeply indrawn breath, she wrapped her arms around his head and her legs around his hips, desperately trying to pull him in deeper and faster.

“Seerie…” He groaned against her skin “Slow down, Love.”

“No….” She whispered, once again arching her hips towards him. “Love me.”

His great body shuddered above her as his restraint simply snapped. His hips plunged forwards, until his entire length was engulfed with in the tight, heated wetness of her core.

“Maker’s breath!” He groaned before returning his head to her shoulder, his hips beginning to move in a hard rhythm. Saoirse made small inarticulate noises as her entire attention was diverted to her centre. Her right leg raising more and more, wanting to pull him in closer and deeper inside her. He moved his other arm from near her shoulder and looped his arm under her leg before returning it to its original position. Both gasped against skin when the angle change allowed him to slide deeper into depths.

“Maker… Seerie!” Thom slid faster and faster into her depths, until all that could be heard in the room was the sound of their ragged breathing and the rhythmic slapping of skin against skin. Saoirse’s breathy moans had changed to small cries, her head flung back as she moved closer to her pinnacle. Her nails raked down his back as she threw herself over the edge, her body shuddering, clenching around his hard cock as it continued to thrust into her. Moments later, his movements now juddering, he cried out and thrust into her, emptying himself into her willing body, shaking against her shoulder as darkness threatened to dim his eyes and it felt like he’d almost stopped breathing. He slumped against her, taking most of his weight on his forearms as they both enjoyed the after shocks that wracked their bodies.

Giggling, Saoirse opened one eye and looked up at him when she felt something drip onto face. He was looking down at her, a huge grin on his face, making him look years younger. To tease a little, she wriggled her hips against him, and snickered when he groaned softly before pulsing against her, his length still firmly within her.

“Well… I hope it’s always like that.” She whispered. His grin widened and he leant down to softly kiss her.

“Oh… it’ll get better.” He stated, confident.

“Really? That sure of yourself huh?”

“Definitely… it’s something I love doing… and doing it with you… it’ll be my life’s goal to make you scream in pleasure multiple time a day… if you let me.” He moved his mouth to the side of her neck and nuzzled her. She looked up at the ceiling delightedly and wrapped her arms around his neck loosely.

“I might just have to let that happen then, Brave Ser Knight. I wouldn’t want you to fail your quest, now would I?”

“No… that would be quite heartless, Fair Maiden… especially when I have already made promises. Promises that I intend to keep.” He pulled away from her and hissed through his teeth as he slowly removed himself from her depths. She didn’t make it easy on him either, tightening the muscles there, trying to keep him within her or at least tease him a little more.

“And what promise was that?” She asked, letting her legs fall to either side of his. He stood and held out his hand to her, pulling her to feet, where she tottered slightly, caught off guard by one foot still being booted and the other one not.

He crowded against her again, a decidedly lecherous grin on his face as he walked her backwards towards the bed.

“I promised to show you what it felt to feel my beard in other places, did I not? I am a man of my word after all.” He suddenly picked her up and tossed her into the centre of the bed, crawling slowly over her, kissing her bare ankle as he worked on the ties to her other boot. “I couldn’t bare to break a promise so recently made.”

Grinning she threw her hands over her head and lay back against the covers. “Well… don’t let me stop you, my love.” Her skin goose bumping at the sound of his deliciously wicked laughter.


	25. Chapter 25

Alistair stepped out of the royal apartments early that morning, a man on a definite mission. Eleanor was sound asleep, curled around his little cheesewheels, and he knew Molly would check on them frequently so she’d assist the Queen should she need it. He didn’t like being away from his wife and children so early, but there was nothing that he wouldn’t do for Saoirse, so he willingly left the warm haven on his bed to go raid an orphanage.

He walked with purpose down the corridor towards the exit, shouting that he needed his horse brought immediately. Teagan Guerrin appeared out of the shadows of the library and kept step with him.

“Where are you off too so early?” He wondered out loud.

“I am going to go play at the Denerim Chantry Orphanage. Would you like to join me?” Alistair gave him a cheerful grin and got a smirk in return.

“Why are we going to go play at the Orphanage?” The Arl of Redcliffe asked.

“I thought I’d swoop in, steal one of their charges and ride back to the castle like the hero I am. Good plan, yes?”

“But, haven’t you always said swooping is bad?”

“Not when I do the swooping… the I am a manly knight in shining… er… leather… coming to save the day.”

“Does the Queen know where you are going?” They reached the front courtyard, and then waited a few more minutes for Teagan’s horse to be brought around, along with a compliment of royal guards to make ready.

“Yes, she is sending me… You know, this would have been easier without all the guards.”

“Maybe, but they give an air of prestige, and are definitely good at showing who you are and getting you what you want.” Teagan was still burning up with curiosity as to why they were making this early morning foray into Denerim itself but knew that Alistair would share when he was good and ready.

The group cantered out of the castle gates and headed towards the city centre itself. The early morning citizen blinking in shock at the sudden appearance of their King and called out greetings as he passed through their midst. When they approached the broken-down gates at the Orphanage entrance, Alistair rode to a stop and regarded it.

“Whether we find who we are looking for today or not, Teagan, I will have this place restored as soon as possible. The Chantry may be failing to protect the little ones inside, but the Kingdom of Fereldan will no longer do so.” Teagan nodded, horrified at the deplorable condition of the building and surrounds. Neither men had ever noticed it before, as the main thoroughfare to and from the castle was quite a distance from here. Both felt a stab of guilt.

“Ellie will not be pleased.” Alistair muttered.

“No, no she won’t. Alistair… why are we here?” Teagan was one of the few people in Alistair’s acquaintance that knew what Saoirse had done for them, how she had taken the taint from both Alistair and Eleanor before she had disappeared into the mirror. Alistair reached into his tunic and pulled out the scroll that Leliana had sent them, showing Brianna Trevelyan.

“We are here to collect and protect Brianna. Saoirse believes she is here, rather than in Hircinia, and we have to make sure of that before the Inquisitor and his sister leave Skyhold to come here. They need to know if they travel here or to Jader and on to the Free Marches.”

Teagan carefully scrutinised the image and then gave the paper back to his nephew and king.

“What a comely child, she looks similar to my little Beatie.” Beatrix Guerrin was an unholy terror who kept Redcliffe Castle and Village on their adoring toes. Alistair had more than a passing fondness for the sweet little girl and was more than willing to be her devoted slave whenever Teagan brought his wife and child to the castle.

“Okay, here’s the plan. I am just going to storm in there and ask to see her as a matter of national security. Once we verify that she is who we are seeking, I will bring her back out and we’ll ride off back to the Castle.”

“Clear, concise and to the point. Excellent plan, your Majesty. You’ll also probably terrify everyone living there.”

“Hmmm… Fine. I’ll try diplomacy first. You really are taking all the fun out of swooping you know.”

“Well… yes…. Swooping is bad, you know.” Alistair smirked at him as they both dismounted and strode towards the Orphanage doors, followed by four guards, whilst the others stayed with the horses.

No one responded to the first knock to the door. Nor the second one. Nor the third.

“Well, this is really quite rude. Can I swoop a bit now? I did knock… three times.”

“Yes, swoop away.” Teagan grandly gestured at the door with his hand.

Alistair opened the door and marched straight in, Teagan and the guards in tow. If anything, the inside was worse than the outside. It smelt mouldy, dank and somewhat rancid. The walls were crumbling, and the floorboards were missing in more than one place.

“So much for the Chantry caring about all the children of the Maker.” Alistair exclaimed. Teagan just nodded, gritting his jaw when a tiny boy child walked by at a distance with no pants on, sobbing. Alistair looked at his guard-captain.

“Announce us, please.” He was furious, down right incensed to see such degradation within the walls of his city.

“His Majesty, King Alistair Theirin the First of Fereldan, Ender of the Blight.” The man’s voice echoed through the halls. Moments later, a scared elven head appeared around a corner and blinked at the people in their entrance way.

“Your… your majesty?” She quivered. Alistair looked at Teagan, this was not what he expected. He hadn’t expected much, but the least of which had been at least a few Chantry sisters here to care for the ones under their care. He held his hand out placatingly and took a step forward.

“Greetings, I mean you no harm. Where are the sisters who ran the orphanage?” The slight woman came around the corner, rubbing her fingers in a dirty cloth around her waist.

“They… um… the fled when the sky broke, yer worship.” She looked down at her feet, unsure about what to do with herself.

“I see. And what are you called?”

“Kallian Tabris, sire.”

“Oh! Are you related to the Bann of the Alienage? Shianni?”

“Yes, sire. She’s my cousin.”

“Does she know you are over here?”

“No, sire.”

“Why not?”

“She’d try to keep me in the alienage, sire. And these little ones need someone to watch over them.” Once more the sobbing little boy walked past in the distance and Teagan moved to intercept him, talking quietly to him.

“I see.” He looked at her, liking what he saw in her, her strength of character and her willingness to work in an area that would sooner see her dead for being a knife-ear than help her.

“Before we discuss it further, and we will be discussing all of this.” He made a gesture to encompass the building. “I need to find out if you have a three-year-old female child here called Brianna; she looks like this, or very similar to it.” He held out the drawing. She took it from and studied it for a moment before giving him a blazing smile.

“Yes! She’s hiding around the corner just over there. She told me this morning that a big man was coming today… I certainly didn’t expect it to be the king!” She turned to the corner she had come from and called out softly.

“Brianna? _Garas min, Da’len_!” A tiny little dot of a girl came running around the corner, her long black curls bouncing on her shoulders, her dress ripped but clean and her feet bare. She ran right up to Alistair, who knelt down in front of her and smiled. She smiled winningly up at him, her big blue eyes happy and as far as he could tell, healthy.

“Hello, Big man!” She chirped, placing her hand on his cheek. Alistair melted.

“Hello, Little Charmer!” He answered, holding his large paw out to her. She looked at it seriously for a moment, before placing her fingers around one of his and gave him a very businesslike shake. There was a snicker from one of the guards behind his back.

“Have you come to take me to Momma and my new Daddy?” The little one got straight to the point.

“Well, I don’t know about a new Daddy, but yes. Your Momma is a bit far away right now, but she’s on her way to come get you.”

“And take me to a place where the land holds back the sky?”

“Skyhold. Yes.” Alistair was quite confounded, but a quick look at the smiling elven woman let him know that there was nothing to fear.

“Okay.” She stated happily. “I will get my doll and we can go.” She scampered off. Alistair stood up and looked at the woman.

“Builders, engineers, servants, gardeners and cooks, along with assistants for yourself will be arriving before dusk this evening. I am officially annexing this building from the Chantry and will assume full responsibility of it and those living with in.” In shock, her hand raised to her lips as she looked at him in shock.

“I have no doubt that the Queen will be here by tomorrow, so I’d like it if you discuss the other needs this place has with her. If you have no problem, we will be taking Brianna back to the castle with us this morning.” He finished and looked at her expectantly.

“Of… of course. You said her mother is coming for her. We were told she was a foundling child with no parents.”

“She is Brianna du Maurier-Trevelyan, daughter of Saoirse Trevelyan, Grand daughter of Bann Richard Trevelyan and niece of Inquisitor Benjamin Trevelyan, herald of Andraste. She has a lot of family waiting for her.”

“I’m Brianna Trevelyan-Rainier. My new daddy has a funny beard, and big boots and a round tummy.” Kallian stifled a giggle, as did Teagan when he returned, the little boy held securely in his hands. He reluctantly passed the calm little one over to Kallian and reached into her coin purse, passing her two gold royals.

“I… need to talk to my wife… but please keep him safe for us. I believe we will be back for him within the week.” He ran his hand over the little fellow’s head. Kallian smiled and nodded her head.

“Of course, Arl Guerrin.”

Brianna walked up to Alistair and lifted her arms up trustingly. He smiled and lifted her tiny body into his arms.

“Ready to go, Little Charmer?” He asked softly.

“Yes, Big Man. Can I have a cheese sandwich for lunch?” She asked. “I like cheese.”

Alistair smiled broadly and began walking towards the front door.

“Ah!!! A girl after my own heart! How about cheese sandwiches for breakfast?”

“Yes!! Cheeeeeeese!”


	26. Chapter 26

An hour or so later, Alistair snuck into his bed chambers, after being assured that his lady wife and children were still sleeping. Brianna was on her third cheese sandwich and Molly had promised to bring the tiny girl to him the moment she had been cleaned up and dressed. Teagan had arrived in the kitchen with a bundle of clothes for her, all things that he assumed his Beatrix had grown out of. He stared at his wife, who lay back amongst the covers, arms flung over her head in wild abandon and Maric sleepily feeding from her. In the cradle next to her, he saw two legs kicking up the blankets and an occasional fist as its occupant tried to reach the mabari mobile over her head. He ducked over and smiled down at her.

“Catriona! My little dumpling!” He reached out and tickled her tummy. She blinked at him and grimaced, which he assumed was her early attempts at smiling back at him. Unable to resist her picked her up and held her close to his chest, singing a silly little song to her whilst he danced around.

“Oh yeah… that’s a sight a woman could get used to seeing when she wakes. Shake your butt, my love.” He blushed bright red and turned to face his wife, who was now sitting up having put Maric down in the cradle.

“Err… good morning wife.” He croaked, but still grinned down at his daughter when she enthusiastically kicked her legs against his bicep. He climbed on to the bed next to her and passed Catriona to her and watched as the baby latched on and began her breakfast.

“So… how did it go? Was Brianna there?” Ellie’s curious blue eyes met his.

“Yes. She is now in the dining room with Molly eating a cheese sandwich. She is a big fan of cheese.” He said, smiling at her enthusiastic demands for one more just as he had left the room.

“Okay, good. Pass me the pendant, I must tell Leli.”

“There is more, my love.”

“Oh?”

Quickly he explained what he had found at the orphanage, it’s material and physical condition and the fact that the Chantry had just abandoned it shortly after the death of the Divine. He could see the fury rising in her face and eyes as he continued with his story. He explained how Kallian Tabris had taken on it on herself, and was trying to keep the children there safe and fed. He then stated that he had told her to expect help within the day and he was annexing the building for the crown.

Ellie looked at him, rage still surging, but inordinately proud of him.

“You did well, Alibear. I’ll be going to this orphanage this afternoon, after lunch.” He had known that she wouldn’t stay away from this project long. He reached over her and picked up the amulet from the side table and passed it to her, kissing her softly as he returned to his side of the mattress.

“Let’s get this over with, so I can find out who’s ass we need to kick.” She stated.

“Personally, I’d started with the top… the Revered Mother at the Chantry.” Alistair stated, getting off the bed to came around and pick his now sleeping daughter from her mother’s chest. He smiled a wide, cheesy smile when he tucked her into the crib beside her brother and watched the sleepily snuggle together.

“Right. Okay… lets get going… we are suddenly going to be extremely busy.” Alistair crawled back onto the bed and snuggled up against her side, placing small kisses on her shoulder as she held out the crystal and stated Leliana’s name quietly.


	27. Chapter 27

Saoirse looked at the horse. The horse looked at Saoirse.

“Um…” She turned to look at her new husband and blushed.

“Thom… I’ve never actually…” She waved at the horse.

“What? You’ve never…. Ooooh.” Comprehension dawned and he moved closer to her, wrapping his arms around her back. “It’s okay, Love. You can ride with me.”

“Are you sure? What if you need to dismount quickly?”

“Seerie, the only person I am going to be protecting is you. That’s why the Inquisitor is bringing all these guards.”

“Ah.” She turned her face into the crux of his neck and wrapped her arms around his waist, then and breathed out a large sigh. “I hate this… I hate waiting and not knowing. I feel like I am living on the edge of my skin. I don’t want to get my hopes up.”

“I know, Love. Hopefully we find out before we leave, if we don’t, I am sure there’d be a message before we get to the first… camp.” He slowed down his answer when he saw a runner running towards the stables, shouting for Master Dennet. Within moments the stables were in an uproar as horses tack was collected and stable hands ran down to the fields below Skyhold to retrieve more mounts.

He saw the Inquisitor taking the stairs down the to the lower courtyard two at a time, Dorian following at a much more refined speed, though there was an uncharacteristically large smile on his handsome face. As Ben neared the bottom of the stairs, a large group of workers, engineers and other volunteers moved behind him, some with shovels and spades, others with just their packs, and others carrying crates of food to several hastily commandeered covered wagons. Saoirse and Thom looked on as everything was carried out quickly and efficiently, until most of their newly expanded group were merely waiting for their horses to be caught before starting out. They all stood and patiently waited even before Ben had made it through the large crowed to his sister.

“Seerie!!” She moved to stand in front of Thom, who immediately wrapped his arms around her waist and pressed against her, giving her the comfort he knew she needed. Ben reached out for her hands and grasped it in both his palms. “Brianna is at Denerim Castle, eating the King’s cheese stash.” Her knees felt wobbly and she fell back against Thom, her closing her eyes as sheer relief flood her senses. Thom’s deep voice mumbled to her as he held her up and pressed kisses to her head. She opened her eyes, to find them flooded with tears. She lurched forward out of Thom’s hold and crashed into Ben, pressing her face into his chest as the began to sob, great gasps that seemed to break through from her soul, body shuddering as all the consternation, stress and worry dropped from her shoulders. She was engulfed in a three-way hug as Thom and Dorian joined Ben. She gave a watery giggle and turned her head to kiss all three chins.

“So, if we know where Brianna is, why all these extra people?” She asked.

“Well, when Alistair went to retrieve Brianna this morning, he discovered that the Chantry had abandoned the orphanage, and a single elven woman was trying to keep them all fed, clean and safe. The building is practically falling down. So, I decided that we are going to use some of our people and supplies to help the Orphanage be repaired. Some of these people are volunteering to stay on and help the woman in the day to day upkeep in the place and the children until suitable people can be trained. Bull knows a group of Tal-Vashoth tamasseran’s that are looking for a home and may be willing to assist.” Ben grinned at her, feeling quite proud of the arrangements he had worked out between himself, Leliana and the Fereldan monarchs.

Saoirse frowned. “He put her in a dilapidated orphanage, and just left her? And the Chantry just left those children?”

“Yes. Leliana is infuriated and is now investigating along with Queen Eleanor.”

“Right, well… lets just add this crime to du Maurier’s others.” She was still frowning, but her expression lightened. “Can we leave now? I want to get to Denerim as soon as possible.” The three men in front of grinned and Thom led her to his horse, laughing when she squealed as he lifted her up. Within moments he had swung up behind her and had pulled her against his chest and wrapping his cloak around them both. Minutes later they moved out of the lower courtyard, their pace slower than the usual speed to allow Saoirse time to get used to the rolling gait of the horse.

All around her people talked and laughed, but her thoughts were purely on the small child waiting for her in Denerim, and the comforting feel of her husband’s arms around her waist. Emotionally exhausted, she faded off to sleep, secure in the knowledge that Thom held her tight and soon her family would be together.


End file.
